


Repair Broken Hearts

by snapdragon76



Series: Repair Broken Hearts [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College Age Arya, Dirty Thoughts, Emotional Slow Burn, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gendry is a bladesmith, Gendry is a snack, Gendry sleeps naked, Getting to Know Each Other, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Sexual Content, Sexual Fast Burn, Slow Burn, Smut, Snark, Sword Making, Thirst Thy Name Is Arya, Unresolved Sexual Tension, distracted by the sexy, eating the eye candy, no beta we die like men, oh no feels, sexual awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23005942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snapdragon76/pseuds/snapdragon76
Summary: Arya needs to get a family heirloom repaired. She goes to a bladesmith to try and get it fixed and meets her match in the surly man in front of the forge.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Series: Repair Broken Hearts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724284
Comments: 188
Kudos: 264





	1. Initial Consultation

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone. This is my next multi-chapter fic. I won't be a prolifent as my last one, because I'm taking my time with this one and not wanting to rush anything.
> 
> Special thanks to @thereluctantbadger with her help in brainstorming and encouraging me to continue and being a general cheerleader. Thanks, Badge!

[ ](https://imgur.com/mVW2whf)

_The Consultation_

**Arya**

“Yep, it’s Gendry you’ll be wanting.”

Arya focused on the older man in front of her. He examined the sword with a practiced eye.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Gendry?” she asked.

“A-yep. Gendry Waters. He’s the one who does the historical restorations ‘round here,” the old man continued.

When Arya went into Tobho Mott’s Repair Shop that afternoon, she’d brought her family’s antique family heirloom, a large sword, with her. It had been passed down in her family for centuries and with her father’s 50 th birthday looming, she wanted to try and see if she could get it repaired and like new again. 

She must’ve been speaking to Mr. Mott himself if the name patch on his work shirt gave any indication.

“Where is he then, if you don’t mind me asking?” she said, trying not to let the irritation in her voice show.

“Round back. Follow me,” came the reply. He handed the pieces of the sword back to her and motioned for her to follow him. 

Mott walked towards the back of the shop, where Arya could smell the scent of wood smoke and ashes in the air. She heard the sound of metal pounding metal ringing in her ears.

The back opened up to a wide, open expanse with a large furnace on the far side and what looked to be a large accordion off to the side. Metal implements hung everywhere; and also various metal objects, like gates and signposts; as well as various bladed weapons, and what looked to be a wrought iron bar cart.

_ Wow, I never knew quite so many things could be made by a blacksmith _ .

Mott walked up to a man standing by the furnace, his back to Arya. From what she could see, he looked fairly tall, with a broad and muscular back, with coal-black hair peeking out from under his bandana wrapped around his head.

And then he turned around.

Arya was greeted by the most intense and deep blue eyes she’d ever seen. Her breath caught in her throat. She’d never seen such an intense pair of eyes. Like a sea after a storm. 

Her eyes raked down to his face. He was young. Much younger than she would’ve thought. Mid-twenties at least. He had a firm and strong jawline. His cheeks were high and sharp and he had rich full lips. Almost as if they had a mind of their own, her eyes continued downward to his broad shoulders and strong, muscular chest. His faded, threadbare flannel shirt was open, exposing the sweat-slicked skin of his smooth chest. Rivulets of sweat ran down into the valley of muscles beneath his collarbone.

Arya noticed the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, showing his firm forearms tapering down to a pair of large, strong hands; large and prominent veins mapping the backs of them.

She could feel her stomach clench involuntarily.

Mott was speaking with him in low tones and gesturing towards her. The young man — Gendry — flicked his eyes back and forth between them, his expression neutral. 

He put his tools down and walked over to her along with Mott.

“Ms. Stark, this here is Gendry Waters. He’s the bladesmith who does historical recreations and restorations. He was trained by the best. Me. You’ll be in good hands,” the old man told her.

Arya tried to ignore the stomach flip at the words ‘in good hands’ as Mott left them alone. She looked at the hard set of his jaw and tried to find her words again.

“Tobho said you had a sword that needed to be repaired?” he said before she could get the chance. Gods his voice was deep.

“Uhh, yes. It’s my family’s heirloom sword. My father’s 50th birthday is coming up and I wanted it to be a surprise for him,” she said, trying not to let her voice betray her and the pooling of heat she felt deep inside.

_Get it together, Arya! Just because he’s hot and has arms that could crush you, there’s no reason to be nervous._

She passed him the remnants of the sword over to him and he took them gently in his rough hands. He turned the pieces over to inspect them carefully. He was taller than Arya realized. Over six feet. Even though his frame was muscular, he was well proportioned and didn’t look grotesquely large. 

“Hmmm, looks to be Valeryian steel. Good quality. Not the mock Valeryian a lot of others make. Claymore by the size. I can replicate it, but it’ll take time. And it’ll cost,” Gendry said, and twitched his eyebrow at Arya.

She straightened her spine. “I can pay for it.”

“That’s good to hear because only two people can make Valeryian steel around here,” he declared.

“Really? You and who else?”

Gendry nodded his head towards the door where Mott had exited. 

“Him. But he doesn’t work metal anymore. His hands are arthritic. So he leaves the smithing to me and he does the books and stuff.”

Arya crossed her arms over her chest. “How long will it take to repair?” she said.

Gendry put down the pieces of the sword.

“Five to seven days. At least. Maybe more if I run into problems,” Gendry stated firmly.

Arya scoffed, “That long?!”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with blackened fingers. He had nice fingers, Arya noted somewhat wryly.

“Listen, do you want it fast or do you want it good?”

“Both.”

He knitted his eyebrows together in annoyance and threw his hands in the air.

“Well, you can’t have both!” he shouted.

Arya huffed and placed her hands on her hips. 

“Fine! I guess it’ll take longer then!” she shouted back.

She couldn’t believe this guy! He was actually picking an argument with her! She was giving him business, and expensive business too! He had a lot of nerve.

“Good, I’m glad we’ve agreed. I have some other work to finish up here and I’ll start on it tomorrow,  _ milady _ ,” he said, sarcastically.

Arya felt her hackles raise up.

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.”

“As milady wishes,” he snarked.

She growled. She knew she couldn’t take her business elsewhere because no one else could fix it. She looked at him, standing there in front of her, all tall and sweaty and muscular. His blue eyes bore into her like white-hot flames. If he thought she was just going to leave her family’s heirloom there for a week and let him do whatever, he was sorely mistaken.

“I guess we have a deal then,” she said, gritting her teeth. She thrust her hand out.

“I guess we do,” he gritted out in return. He wiped his hands on his leather apron and grabbed hers in a handshake. She tried to ignore the heat radiating from him and what it did to her insides. She released his hand and gathered her purse.

“Tobho will settle things with you in the office and I’ll let you know when it’s finished.”

Gendry gathered the pieces of the sword and turned back towards the forge.

_ You’ll be seeing me a lot sooner than that, jerk. _

**Gendry**

There was just something about being in front of the forge, working metal that was soothing to Gendry. Who needed meditation when you had a hammer and an anvil and some steel?

Gendry prided himself in his bladesmithing. It didn’t hurt that he was taught by one of the best Master Smiths in the business. Tobho Mott was one of the most renowned metalsmiths in the entirety of Westeros. Especially for his specialty of forging Valeryian steel, which was one of the best and strongest steels one could find. 

He had a motto that he lived by. “Work smarter, not harder.” It’s one he lived by regularly. Smithing could be unpredictable, so it was important to be aware of what one was doing and take the time to do it correctly and do it well. Tobho had done so much for him, and he wasn’t going to let stupid mistakes affect the reputation he’d built up. 

Gendry was only 22, but he’d been working the forge since before he was a teenager. He was a quick study and the hammer was like an extension of his arm. 

He was at the larger brick forge, working on an ax when Tobho had come up to him with a request.

“She wants what?” he asked the older man.

“She wants her family sword fixed. It’s Valeryian, so we’re the only ones who can do it.”

Gendry snorted, “What’s this ‘we’ stuff, old man?”

Tobho chuckled. They had always had that sort of relationship, where they’d pass insults back and forth, but with affection.

“Just come and talk to her and see what she wants. It could lead to more business for us, so you need to be polite,” Tobho told him in low tones.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Gendry turned around and locked eyes with a petite brunette standing at the entrance of the forge, a bundle in her hands. She was pretty. Very pretty, with steel-grey eyes, a slender face, and an athletic build. Her dark brown hair was braided and draped over her shoulder. Gendry could already tell she was a firecracker.

He put his tools down and walked over to where she stood. 

“Ms. Stark, this here is Gendry Waters. He’s the bladesmith who does historical recreations and restorations. He was trained by the best. Me. You’ll be in good hands,” Tobho said.

Gendry could feel her assessing him with her gaze.

_ Great. Another rich girl. That’s all I need… _

Still, he had to be on his best behavior for the sake of the business. 

“Tobho said you had a sword that needed to be repaired?” he said curtly.

_Dammit, Gendry, way to get off on the wrong foot._

Unperturbed, she explained that the sword was in her family for generations and that her father’s birthday was coming up and she wanted it to be repaired as a gift for him. 

_ Yep. Rich girl. _

He examined the sword. It was in pieces. The blade was broken and in several shards, the handle was loose and worn and he could see the pommel was broken.

_ Yep, this will take a lot of work. _

“Hmmm, looks to be Valeryian steel. Good quality. Not the mock Valeryian a lot of others make. Claymore by the size. I can replicate it, but it’ll take time. And it’ll cost,” he told her, matter of factly. 

Her eyebrow raised. She asked him how long it would take to fix it.

“Five to seven days. At least. Maybe more if I run into problems,” he said.

Her eyes widened. He figured she wasn’t expecting it to take that long. Quality art takes time. And bladesmithing was an art.

She scoffed at him. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. This was the last thing he needed. Some spoiled princess questioning him and his methods.

He tried to stay calm. He always had a temper problem, and he could feel his irritation growing by the second dealing with this girl.

“Listen, do you want it fast or do you want it good?”

“Both.”

He knitted his eyebrows together in annoyance and threw his hands in the air.

“Well, you can’t have both!” he shouted.

She placed her hands on her hips imperiously.

Gods this girl was going to be the death of him and they haven’t even agreed on anything yet.

“Fine! I guess it’ll take longer then!” she shouted back.

“Good, I’m glad we’ve agreed. I have some other work to finish up here and I’ll start on it tomorrow,  _ milady _ ,” he said, sarcastically.

Gendry could see her face turning red. He would say she was cute when she was angry, but like hells was he ever going to tell her that.

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.”

“As milady wishes,” he snarked.

“I guess we have a deal then,” she said, gritting her teeth. She thrust her hand out.

“I guess we do,” he gritted out in return. He wiped his hands on his leather apron and grabbed hers in a handshake. Her hands were soft, but she had a firm grip. Firmer then what he would’ve thought.

“Tobho will settle things with you in the office and I’ll let you know when it’s finished.”

Gendry gathered the pieces of the sword and turned back towards the forge.

He had this sinking feeling in his gut that he’d be seeing her sooner than expected.


	2. Day One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I have another chapter here. If you like, that's wonderful. If not, well... no one is forcing you to read is all.
> 
> Thanks again to Badge for the encouragement. I don't know for sure when the next chapter will be up, grad school is getting pretty hectic right now, even with the social distancing. 
> 
> Also, I have no beta, so any mistakes are my own and for that, I apologize.

[ ](https://imgur.com/WaZBGiO)

_ Day One _

**Arya**

The next day, Arya headed down to the shop, carrying a day’s worth of supplies with her. Even though she was going to check on progress on the sword, it didn’t mean she was also going to spend her time twiddling her thumbs either.

She had a few books, some snacks, a couple of bottles of water, and a notepad and pens in case she wanted to write some things and maybe catch up on some of her college classwork. It was nearing the end of her second semester of her freshman year at KLU, so she had a few papers she needed to fine-tune before typing them up and turning them in. As a history major, she knew there was quite a bit of writing and research involved, but as she was writing a paper on the history of Westerosi weaponry, she wanted it to be her best work.

It also meant that she needed to not go out as much during her Spring Break. She liked being social and hanging out with her friends at the local bars and festivals, but she’d been sick recently and needed to do some catching up to do.

Although the shop where her family’s heirloom sword was being fixed wasn’t exactly ideal, it was important to her to make sure this guy knew what he was doing. He looked pretty young, so she hoped he wasn’t some novice or anything. Unfortunately, her options were extremely limited. It took everything she could think of to even smuggle it out of her family homestead without anyone knowing. Well, Jon knew since he helped her smuggle it out and into King’s Landing.

Arya entered the shop and noticed the older man, Mott, was at the front desk, doing some paperwork. He glanced up and smiled, but still looked rather surprised to see her.

“Ms. Stark, I wasn’t expecting you to be back quite so soon. I hope there aren’t any problems?” he asked her, his glasses sitting perched on the end of his nose.

“Oh no, I just wanted to see how things were going. I promise I won’t get in the way,” she told him. 

“Ahhh, I see,” Mott told her, a bit of a glint in his eye. Like seeing young women come into the shop every day was a regular occurrence for him. 

He threw a thumb over his shoulder, “He’s back that way.”

Arya smiled, “I remember. Thank you!”

She breezed past the older man, who simply chuckled and shook his head, returning to his work.

Arya could feel the heat envelop her as she walked into the forge in the back. It was strangely silent as she expected to hear the banging of metal on metal. Instead, she saw Gendry standing at a workbench, his back to her, with a coal pencil in his hand, sketching something out on a roll of butcher paper. Ice was sitting in front of him.

She saw a stool nearby and sat down on it. She took a scan of the forge. She never really got a good look at it when she was there before.

There were the expected things one would find in a metal forge: tools; hammers; tongs; scraps of metal; some cylindrical tubes of varying heights; bottles of what looked to be cooking oil; a drill press; shelves of various materials, such as animal bones, horns, and antlers; welding helmets; a small propane furnace; files; chisels; various projects.

Arya scanned the walls and saw a number of weapons, some she recognized and others she didn’t. All bladed in various shapes and sizes. She also noticed a stylized metal bull’s head on the far wall, near the brick oven. It was crafted simply but had a strong elegance to it. 

She couldn’t help but notice something rather curious. Not something someone would expect to find in a forge: plants. Not large ones, but a few small and medium-sized succulents along the walls. They looked lush and healthy. Like they were well cared for.

Arya got lost in her surroundings that she almost didn’t hear the voice call out to her.

“Oi, I said what are you doing here?” the voice said, gruffly.

She brought her attention to the figure of the tall man standing by the bench, facing her with his arms crossed across his broad chest. He was staring at her with those deep blue eyes of his. She also noticed he wasn’t wearing his bandana over his head, so she could see his shaggy black hair better. It was tousled rather messily atop his head, but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, Arya thought it looked rather dashing on him.

Gendry arched a dark eyebrow in her direction.

“Oh, sorry. I just came by to check on the progress of the sword, that’s all,” she explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world as to why she was there.

Gendry pursed his lips. Arya notices her attention being drawn to them for some reason.

“Don’t trust me to do the work without supervision, is that it?” Gendry responded rather tetchily.

Arya scoffed. What is his deal, anyway?

“No! I was just curious as to the process of making and repairing blades, that’s all.”

Gendry narrowed his eyes. Damn if it wasn’t a good look on him.

“I see. That’s the story you’re sticking with then?” he replied.

Arya sighed. Fine, if he was gonna be a grouch about it, she can play along.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it  _ is _ the story I’m sticking with. I just so happen to have an interest in historical weaponry and am writing a paper on it for a class of mine. If you absolutely  _ must _ know.”

Gendry snorted. Like he didn’t believe her. It was the truth! Did he think she was lying?!

“OK, fine. But it’s hot and dirty inside a forge. I don’t want to hear any complaining about how it’ll get your nice clothes all dirty and whatnot,” he told her and turned away.

Arya rolled her eyes. Please. It’s not like she was Sansa. She wasn’t afraid of a little grime. Hell, she made mud pies and played in the dirt all the time when she was little.

“I’m fine. I know it’s dirty and hot. I wore appropriate clothing. I’m not worried,” she told him, even though he wasn’t facing her anymore. He simply shook his head.

She was prepared. She wore an older pair of cut off shorts, and an old band t-shirt, and an old pair of sneakers. She even tossed her hair up in a messy bun so it wouldn’t be on her neck. 

Gendry walked over to the larger brick forge and added coals to it and started the fire. He pumped the bellows in order to get a steady movement of air over the coals which would heat them up faster. He looked over his shoulder.

“I suppose you’re going to ask a lot of questions then?” he asked.

She shrugged, “Maybe. Think of it as research.”

His only response was a noncommittal grunt and returned to what he was doing. Arya took out a notebook and began to take notes. She had been a bit stuck on what she was going to write her final essay about, but now she knew. So, she could kill two birds with one stone. Get her family’s heirloom repaired and write a paper on historical bladesmithing. Perfect!

She looked up from her writing and back to Gendry. She intended to see more about how he worked a forge, but her eyes were drawn to the muscles of his back moving underneath the thin cotton of his t-shirt. His very snug fitting t-shirt she noted.

_ Fuck, why does a guy who’s such a pain in the ass have to be so hot?! _

Her eyes also wandered down to his backside, looking very firm in a pair of slim jeans that looked well worn. She could see the outline of a wallet imprinted into the back pocket. 

_ And he has a nice ass too. Great… _

Gendry moved back over to the workbench and picked up the remains of the sword. He was very gentle with it, more gentle than Arya would’ve expected him to be. He cradled the sword in his rough, sinewy hands and turned it over, inspecting it carefully.

He was inspecting the hilt and the pommel intently. He then grabbed a few tools from the toolbox on the workbench and began to methodically take apart the handle. Arya tried not to cringe at it being handled in such a way, but she figures he’d need to completely take it apart in order to rebuild it. 

After he took the handle apart, he set the pieces aside and began to rummage through a bin of metal, pulling out some pieces of rectangular metal and stacking them together.

“What are you doing?” she asked, curiosity piqued.

Gendry sighed, “There’s not enough metal in the original sword to make a full-sized blade, especially not one this size, so I need to have supplemental metal in order to make a blade big enough. I need to melt the metal in the sword enough to be able to add it to the rest of the metal pieces. Valeryian has a high melting point, so I need to get the fire hot enough in order to melt it.”

Arya scribbled furiously in her notebook. This was really interesting.

“Don’t you need to have metal that’s a high carbon count so that it’ll harden properly?” she asked.

“Yes,” Gendry bit out. “Luckily, I have the right types of high carbon steel that I can include in order to make it strong as well as durable. I assume you want this to last for many other generations?”

“Yes,” Arya responded, trying not to sound irritated. She was determined not to let him get under her skin, try as he might.

The rest of the day was spent in virtual silence between them. She’d moved closer so that she could watch him better. He handed her a pair of safety glasses and wore a pair of his own in order to protect their eyes from any sparks and flying metal shards.

Arya watched in rapt fascination as Gendry worked the bellows and turned the broken blade in the coals in order to get it to melt to a point where he could incorporate it into the billet he’d set up of the other steel plates. She also couldn’t help but watch the muscles of his arms work as he pumped the bellows up and down. They flexed rather nicely, she thought.

He took a break in mid-afternoon once he was able to get the blade melted and formed into smaller plates of steel. He sat at his workbench and ate a sandwich while Arya ate one of the snack bars she’d brought.

“How long have you been doing this?” she asked him between bites.

He swallowed the bite of the sandwich he had in his mouth and took a swig of water from his reusable water bottle.

“Since I was ten or so,” came his answer.

Arya’s eyebrows shot up.

“You were metalsmithing at ten?!” she said incredulously.

“Yeah. At first, all I did was help around the shop, cleaning and working the bellows. Stuff like that. Didn’t start on the forge itself until I was 12.”

“Wow. I didn’t think they’d let kids work around a fire at that age,” she returned.

Gendry scoffed, “It’s not like I was unsupervised. Tobho made sure I knew how to do things safely. I wasn’t in a forest playing with matches by myself or anything.”

Arya looked at Gendry askance. Something was up with him. She could tell. She peered at the plants in the workshop and at the man sitting across from her. He was awfully young to be so cynical. 

“How old are you now?” she asked.

“Twenty-two,” he said.

Yep, he was way too young to have such a hard outer shell as he had. Granted, he probably didn’t have the best upbringing. She sometimes had to remind herself of her privilege, having grown up as a member of one of the most prestigious families in the country. 

But, there was a certain familiarity about Gendry that she couldn’t quite place. It was going to bug her, she just knew it.

Her brother Robb had told her that she was like a dog with a bone when it came to things. She wouldn’t let go. She’d always been stubborn, almost to a fault. 

She was bound and determined to crack the handsome bladesmith like a walnut. 

**Gendry**

It was early morning when Gendry woke up. He wasn’t typically a morning person, but he knew this latest project was going to take quite a bit of time, and he wanted to get it started as soon as he could.

He lived in a loft apartment above the forge, and it would get fairly hot, so he adapted long ago by forgoing pajamas while he slept. He didn’t wear anything to bed actually, and it made things simpler. He liked things simple. He could get up and go straight into the shower. No muss, no fuss

Laurel never minded that he slept naked. She rather liked it, she had said. She thought it was “hot” that he did. He just did it for the practicality of it, not for the sex appeal. 

Dammit, he swore to himself he wasn’t going to think about her anymore. He sighed.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. He yawned and stretched and flung his sheets off to the side. He placed his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. It’d been a while since he’d thought of Laurel. He preferred it that way. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stood up and headed to the bathroom.

After showering, he dressed in his work clothes, worn jeans, work boots and a light cotton shirt that was a little threadbare. He found it rather futile to shower in the mornings since he’d be covered in grime and sweat when he was done for the day and he’d need to clean again, but it was good for him to be able to clear his head. 

Gendry fixed himself a cup of coffee, fixed a few pieces of toast and fixed his lunch for the day - a ham sandwich with a few pieces of lettuce and honey mustard along with a bag of chips. It wasn’t much, but it did the trick. He saved his larger meals for the evenings most days.

He went down to the shop and unlocked the doors. Ever since Tobho stopped forging, he would come in later. He used to live in the apartment where Gendry lives at present, but he moved to a smaller place a few blocks away once Gendry became old enough to live on his own. Tobho said that since he was still young and ‘virile’ that he’d need a place of his own to entertain the ladies. Yeah, like there were women crawling out of the woodwork to be with him.

While there were plenty of women who would give him certain looks when he’d go to the bar he’d frequent from time to time, none had interested him. He hadn’t dated anyone since…

That didn’t matter anymore. He had a pretty busy schedule anyway. 

Gendry walked to the back where the forge was and stashed his lunch pail for later. He took the watering pail and filled it and watered the plants he had around the forge. He liked having them there. It made the place feel a little homey. He had some plants up in the loft as well. He liked to fuss over them, it relaxed him. It made him feel proud to have something living that he took care of. Maybe at some point, he’d get a pet, but he didn’t feel ready for that just yet.

Tobho had told him that he was worried about Gendry being lonely. Gendry was used to it, he had a stand-offish personality anyway. He wasn’t like Pod, who would make friends with anyone. Besides, he was rather introverted, so he never liked to go to a lot of social events and ‘meet people’. He only went to the bar so that he could watch the sports channels since he didn’t have cable at his place.

Once he finished watering the plants, he grabbed a roll of butcher paper and the sword he was going to work on and placed them on the workbench. He heard Tobho come in a few moments later and he shouted a hello out to him.

He needed to sketch out exactly how he was going to shape the sword. It was long, so it would need a lot of steel for the blade. The remnants that were there just weren’t enough. And even though Valeryian steel never rusted, it still needed care. He did think he had enough of supplemental high carbon steel he could use to add to the blade, and if he stacked it right, it would produce a nice pattern in the blade. He included three furrows down the center to cut down on weight and raw material. He closed his eyes and pictured how it would look. Now, he just needed to craft it into existence. 

Gendry felt as though someone was in the workshop with him. He turned and saw the last person he’d ever expect.

Arya Stark.

_ Great. Did she come to check on me? _

He sighed, “What are you doing here?”

He tried not to sound too put out. He was trying to be more personable, but he wasn’t always successful. This was one of those times.

She didn’t seem to have heard him since she looked like she was lost in thought, staring out into space. He crossed his arms over his chest and spoke again.

“Oi, I said what are you doing here?” he said again, a little louder this time.

Arya came out of her daze and looked at him. 

Gendry arched his eyebrow. 

“Oh, sorry. I just came by to check on the progress of the sword, that’s all,” she explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world as to why she was there.

_ Uh-huh. Sure… _

He looked her over. She was wearing a pair of cut off shorts, showing well-toned, muscular legs. He tried not to linger on her legs for too long. She was also wearing an old band t-shirt that looked like it’d seen better days, and her soft brown hair was up in a loose bun, with a few tendrils escaping and brushing against her smooth neck.

Gendry pursed his lips. Dear Gods, when was the last time he’d had sex? Why was his mind wandering over how pretty this girl looked? Especially when she looked at him with those large, intelligent grey eyes.

“Don’t trust me to do the work without supervision, is that it?” he replied, harsher than he intended.

“No! I was just curious as to the process of making and repairing blades, that’s all.”

Gendry narrowed his eyes. 

“I see. That’s the story you’re sticking with then?” he replied.

Arya sighed. Gendry thought he spotted a subtle eye roll from her.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it  _ is _ the story I’m sticking with. I just so happen to have an interest in historical weaponry and am writing a paper on it for a class of mine. If you absolutely  _ must _ know.”

Gendry snorted. Likely story.

Why would a rich girl like her be interested in something like historical weaponry? Don’t most girls her age like to go to the shopping malls and paint their nails and talk on the phone with their friends? That’s what Laurel always did anyway.

“OK, fine. But it’s hot and dirty inside a forge. I don’t want to hear any complaining about how it’ll get your nice clothes all dirty and whatnot,” he told her and turned away.

He could just feel her rolling her eyes at him behind his back.

“I’m fine. I know it’s dirty and hot. I wore appropriate clothing. I’m not worried,” she told him, even though he wasn’t facing her anymore. He simply shook his head.

Gendry walked over to the larger brick forge and added more coals to it and started a fire. He pumped the bellows to add airflow to heat the coals faster. He could use the propane forge they had, but with the size of the sword, he’d need the larger one that had more room to maneuver. He’d cleaned out the ash the night before in order to improve the airflow and intensify the heat.

He looked over his shoulder.

“I suppose you’re going to ask a lot of questions then?” he asked.

She shrugged, “Maybe. Think of it as research.”

His only response was a noncommittal grunt and returned to what he was doing.

_ Whatever. _

Gendry moved back over to the workbench and gently picked up the hilt. It was an antique, so he knew it needed to be handled with care. Generally, he made reproductions of historical weapons, which he had hanging all over his forge, but antique weapons needed a whole different level of treatment.

He grabbed a few tools from his toolbox and began to carefully take apart the handle. He’d need to fix it as well, but his main concern was the blade itself. He’d drawn the specs on the butcher paper on his workbench so he could refer to it.

Gendry sorted through his supply of high carbon steel plates that he could use to bolster the metal for the blade. He’d need to weld a billet together and draw it out and fold it over in order to get the right thickness and pattern. First, he’d have to melt down the remains of the blade itself.

He noticed that Arya was writing in a notebook. She asked some questions about the metal he was using, which he answered. He wasn’t used to having someone breathing down his neck as he worked.

Although, if she were to actually breathe down his neck, he’d be far too distracted to ever finish anything. Fuck his stupid libido.

Soon enough it was time for lunch and he sat at his workbench eating his sandwich. Arya was rooted to her stool, eating a power bar of some sort. 

“How long have you been doing this?” she asked him between bites.

He swallowed the bite of the sandwich he had in his mouth and took a swig of water from his reusable water bottle.

“Since I was ten or so,” came his answer.

Arya’s eyebrows shot up.

“You were metalsmithing at ten?!” she said incredulously.

“Yeah. At first, all I did was help around the shop, cleaning and working the bellows. Stuff like that. Didn’t start on the forge itself until I was 12.”

“Wow. I didn’t think they’d let kids work around a fire at that age,” she returned.

Gendry scoffed, “It’s not like I was unsupervised. Tobho made sure I knew how to do things safely. I wasn’t in a forest playing with matches by myself or anything.”

Good Gods, why was she asking personal questions? Was she going to ask him his blood type next? He felt flushed, and it wasn’t from the heat of the forge. He put his guard up. He didn’t need some strange girl asking him about his life. Why did she even care? He was just some nobody to her. Some guy who banged on metal day in and day out.

Besides, she probably had some trust fund boyfriend who belonged to some chic country club or something. He was too lowborn for milady high anyway.

Not that it mattered. In ordinary circumstances, she’d never give him the time of day.

“How old are you now?” she asked.

“Twenty-two,” he said.

Her eyes practically bugged out of her head. It’s not like he was the youngest bladesmith out there, he was just the youngest one with as much experience as he had. 

Gendry caught a slight glint in her eye.

_ This girl is gonna be trouble, I just know it. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get a small peek as to why Gendry is the grumpy boi he is. This is a developing plot, so I'll delve more into it as we go. 
> 
> And yes, I did have to add that bit about Gendry sleeping naked because well... this is me.


	3. Day Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the thirst train everyone!! Arya realizing just what a meal Gendry is and Gendry maybe sorta experiencing some feels. 
> 
> This is pretty much self-indulgence at this point. I make no apologies for that. 
> 
> Once again, thanks to Badge for bantering back and forth with me. 
> 
> Mmmm, smell that unspoken sexual tension...

[ ](https://imgur.com/KnthoyZ)

_Day 2_

**Arya**

She doesn’t know why she feels compelled to go back to the shop. While she does have an interest in how the sword of the Family Stark is being repaired, something deep inside tells her there’s something else drawing her in. 

Maybe it’s the dark blue eyes that compel her to keep coming back. 

No, that’s ridiculous. She knows it’s because she’s writing a history paper about weaponry and bladesmithing as well as getting her family sword repaired for her father’s birthday in a few months.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the tall, dark-haired, surly bladesmith her thoughts would drift to once in a while. 

True, this little enterprise of hers was costing her a large chunk of her monthly stipend, but it’ll be worth it. It’s not like she was spending it on herself or anything. 

It was for her dad. Ned Stark.

Arya loved her father. She took after him in personality and in looks. Same long features, same grey eyes, and brown hair. Even Jon took after him. Maybe that’s why Jon was her favorite.

She and Ned would bond over history. Ned loved history. The two of them would sit down, and he’d tell her the history of their family, going back several thousand years. She loved those moments with him. 

Perhaps it’s why she chose history as a major. 

Sansa chose to study fashion at a school over in Highgarden. Robb opted to study business to prepare himself to take over the family’s large company, Jon went into the military, Bran wanted to study philosophy and Rickon had no idea what he wanted to do, but Arya suspected it’d have something to do with sports.

She packed her stuff in her tote and headed out. Today she wore a pair of overall shorts, a tank top, and her worn sneakers. She threw a flannel shirt on and started down the street, headed to the forge. It was located on the outskirts of the university, so it was within walking distance. 

Walking didn’t bother her. She enjoyed the exercise and it was a nice day today, so the trip was pretty pleasant. 

As she drew closer to the shop, she started to feel butterflies in her stomach, but she didn’t understand why. 

Why would she feel nervous? She’d been there before, it wasn’t like she didn’t feel safe there or anything. Gendry had given her the standard safety lecture and made sure she had eye protection. 

This was a different sort of feeling. A mix of excitement and nervousness.

Arya entered the shop and saw Mott behind the front desk again. He looked up at her and nodded. She smiled and went to the back where the forge was.

She saw Gendry was at the welding table, welding the metal pieces together that he’d assembled the day before. He was wearing his leather apron, his worn jeans (which afforded Arya a nice view of his ass), and a dark blue t-shirt, which clung to him in all the right places. 

Arya’s eyes were glued to the broad expanse of his back as he continued to weld. It’s like she was committing the lines of his body to memory. 

_ It should be illegal to be that fucking hot. _

Arya felt herself get hot, and the fires weren’t even going in the forge yet. When did she become such a perv?

She was no stranger to sex, despite being 18. Her first boyfriend from when she was in high school was named Aegon. He was the most popular boy in her class, and she was surprised when he’d taken an interest in her. She never considered herself to be a great beauty, like Sansa. Or even her Aunt Lyanna, who she was told many times that she resembled.

Still, she’d been flattered when he asked her out. The rest of her schoolmates had as well, especially Sansa’s best friend, Jeyne Poole. 

Sansa and Jeyne were two years ahead of Arya in school, so she’d get the brunt of their taunts. Sansa didn’t start the majority of the name-calling, but she never stopped it either. Arya Horseface had been the worst one. Jeyne would neigh whenever Arya passed her in the hallways. Arya couldn’t help it that she wasn’t girly like Sansa and Jeyne and that she liked to do sports and dance rather than go shopping and gossip like other teenage girls.

Aegon had taken her to the prom and it was that night when she’d had sex for the first time. She was sixteen, but she knew how everything worked and knew all about birth control. She was familiar with the mechanics of it. The actual act, however, wasn’t what she’d expected.

Aegon never hurt her or anything, she just didn’t feel… sparks. She never understood what the fuss was about, to be honest.

Once the school year was over, they both decided to go their separate ways. It was for the best, really. Sansa and Jeyne graduated and the taunts stopped, especially when Sansa wasn’t being influenced by Jeyne any more.

This, however, was different. It’s like she was nauseated and thrilled at the same time. It was strange.

Gendry stopped welding and removed his welding helmet. He set aside the welder and turned around. His eyes landing squarely on her. His gaze seemed to linger for a few moments. Was he checking her out?

“So, back again are we, m’lady?” he cracked, a smirk on his face. Arya saw the hints of a dimple on his cheeks and she almost quit breathing.

_ Damn him… _

“Yes. Have a problem with that?” she tossed back at him. 

He shook his dark head.

“Wouldn’t matter if I did…”

Arya took out her notebook and flipped to where she’d left off.

“What are you doing today?” she asked, pen poised over her notebook.

Gendry, to his credit, didn’t bat an eye at her presence, used to her persistence.

“Today, I will be hammering out the billet into shape, with any luck. I just finished welding the steel plates together so that I can stick them into the forge to melt them together and shape the blade,” he explained.

He stood in front of her, with his hands on his trim waist, his blue eyes blazing a hot fire seemingly into her very soul. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“O-OK,” she stammered out, her voice failing her for some reason.

Gendry moved over to the brick forge and lit the coals for the fire. He put on a pair of safety glasses and handed a pair to Arya. She put them on and stood a safe distance to watch.

He pumped the bellows to heat the coals and stoked them with a poker to spread them evenly. Arya watches him rhythmically work the bellows with one arm and stoke the coals with the other. It was almost hypnotic the way he moved and his muscles flexing with the motion. His strong jaw was set in concentration and his black hair flopped over his forehead and bounced with his movements.

Arya was completely transfixed as she watched him, she forgot to make notes. To her, it was just Gendry and the forge, working in tandem.

Once the fire was hot enough, he took the billet, which was welded to one end of a length of rebar for him to hold onto, and thrust it into the flames. As Arya was writing, she almost stuttered at the word ‘thrust’, invoking certain other images in her mind, but alternative words weren’t any better.

Gendry then would take the billet and pound it on the anvil, starting to work the metal into shape. He’d go and stick it back into the fire when it began to cool and started the process over again. 

The way he pounded the hammer against the metal was like music. He truly made the steel sing, his strong arms beating a tune. Once it got to a certain length, he’d bend the molten metal over the edge of the anvil, add a powdery substance to it, and fold it over itself. He explained to her that it was flux and when one forge-welded metal, which was what he was doing by folding the steel upon itself, it helped the layers to meld together. He’d take a metal brush and brush away the scaling in order for the flux to bond to the metal.

Arya didn’t know how long it took him to work the metal back and forth like he was, but she never noticed. She was too busy watching him pound and bend and fold the steel under his hammer. Then he returns it to the fire, pumps the bellows and heats it up again. 

_ He’s strong. _

She watched as the rivulets of sweat ran down his skin and under the collar of his shirt and down the muscles of his arms. She started to feel a different sort of heat building up inside her and she felt the strong urge to squeeze her thighs together for some reason.

Gendry stopped hammering and set his work aside. He took off his safety glasses and his leather apron and placed them on the workbench. He lifted the hem of his t-shirt and wiped his forehead with it. Arya’s eyes were immediately drawn to his sculpted abs and the v line of muscles leading down to the waistband of his jeans. She also took note of the patch of black hair leading from under his navel to the fly of his jeans. 

“It’s time for lunch,” he announced suddenly, breaking her out of her trance. 

“Uhh, yeah. Sure,” she said, huskily.

Arya was rooted to the spot, trying to collect herself. 

_ Holy. Shit. _

She knew she was in deep trouble.

**Gendry**

He knew she was going to come today. She had pretty much told him so. 

He knew she was a rich girl, probably living off of a trust fund. He hated that. He felt no one should spend money they didn’t earn.

But, there was something different about this girl. She didn’t seem like an ordinary rich girl.

She never acted entitled or spoiled or was busy filing her nails or some such. She seemed genuinely interested in what he did and asked interesting questions.

Gendry knew she had a good upbringing, what with her straight teeth and the way she carried herself. But, the entire time she was there in the forge with him, she never looked down on him or talked to him like he was stupid or lowly. She regarded him as a person, which a lot of girls in her station would never do.

And she had this… laugh. It wasn’t one of those haughty laughs, but a genuine, bright laugh. 

_Stop it, Gendry. She’s a customer. Don’t think about how nice her laugh is, or her bright eyes and fine features._

No, he wasn’t going to fall into that trap again. Fall for a pretty face. And she was pretty. Very pretty. 

Beautiful even.

Gendry snorted as he headed downstairs to the forge. He could feel the familiar stirring in his loins and he pushed the feeling down. Girls only ever wanted one thing from him… inside of his pants.

Yes, he’d indulged a few times, with a couple of different girls. It scratched an itch is all. The closest he came to a relationship was with Laurel, and look how that turned out.

He sighed as he opened up the forge and put his stuff away. He watered the plants and put on his leather apron. He gathered his tools and took the stacks of steel over to the welder and grabbed a welder’s helmet and put it on. He pulled on a pair of thick leather gloves to protect his hands from flying sparks and began to weld the steel together to form his billet. He added the pieces of the original blade. 

The way he had them stacked would make a nice pattern, especially once he’d fold the metal over on itself to create the layers needed for the Valyrian patterning. He opted to do a laddering pattern, which would be consistent for the time the sword was originally forged.

Once he’d had them forged together, he shut the welding torch off and set it aside. He could feel a presence nearby and he knew it was her. He removed his welding helmet and his gloves and turned and saw her sitting there on the stool. 

She was wearing a pair of overall shorts with a tank top underneath and a flannel shirt tied around her waist. Her hair was up in a ponytail and she wore those same worn sneakers she’d worn the day before. He tried not to linger on her muscular legs and toned arms. 

Gendry could’ve sworn he felt his cock twitch.

_ Godsdammit. _

He collected himself before he spoke.

“So, back again are we, m’lady?” he cracked, a smirk on his face in spite of himself.

He saw a look of passing annoyance cross her face and fuck if it didn’t look adorable.

_ Adorable? What the fuck is wrong with me?! _

“Yes. Have a problem with that?” she tossed back at him. 

He shook his dark head.

“Wouldn’t matter if I did…”

Arya took out her notebook and flipped to where she’d left off.

“What are you doing today?” she asked, pen poised over her notebook.

Gendry had to admire her persistence, that’s for sure.

“Today, I will be hammering out the billet into shape, with any luck. I just finished welding the steel plates together so that I can stick them into the forge to melt them together and shape the blade,” he explained.

He stood and placed his hands on his hips, waiting for her response. He rather liked her sassiness. It was refreshing.

Arya simply sat there, her eyes wide and her lips parted. He wasn’t going to focus on the pink moistness of her lips. 

Gendry tried to focus on the tip of her nose, anything to keep from looking at her lips. 

“O-OK,” she stammered out finally.

He moved over to the large brick forge and started the fire. He pumped the bellows so that he could get steady airflow and heat up the coals to the right temperature. Coal forges can be temperamental and need to be tended to much more than propane forges. 

Maybe that’s why he liked them so much. It needed care, like plants.

He’d put on a pair of safety glasses and passed a pair to Arya, which she put on. She had her notebook out, but she seemed distracted and wasn’t writing much.

Once he’d gotten the fire to the right temperature, Gendry took the billet he’d assembled and thrust it into the fire, where the coals were the hottest. Suddenly he wished he’d thought of a different word than thrust…

Soon he was moving back and forth between the fire and the anvil and hammering away at the steel, willing it to take the form he envisioned in his mind. Hammer too hard, and you risk deforming the metal. Too light and you don’t shape it at all.

He loved the sound of the hammer on steel. It was music to him. If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose himself to the rhythm of it and pretty soon, he’d have a shapeless mass that was supposed to be a blade. 

When it was a certain length, he’d take a wire brush and brush away the scale that would be a result of the steel starting to cool on the outside faster than the inside. In order to forge weld successfully, he’d need to clean it before adding the flux and folding the steel over on itself to create the layers he’d need for the blade. 

Gendry took the time to explain the process to Arya, who would write it down in her notebook. She was strangely quiet, however. 

His stomach started to grumble and he knew he’d need to eat something. He could work on the rest of the blade once he finished lunch.

He set his hammer and the steel aside and removed his safety glasses and his leather apron and put them on his workbench. He was sweaty and it was starting to drip down his face, so he took the hem of his shirt and wiped it off, chastising himself for not bringing a bandana with him. 

Gendry lowered his shirt to find Arya staring at him, her eyes wide and her fists clenched. He wondered if she was feeling ill or something.

“It’s time for lunch,” he announced suddenly, breaking her out of her trance. 

“Uhh, yeah. Sure,” she said, huskily.

Gendry swallowed hard.

_ I’m in deep shit. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was rather a quick update, but I was inspired and needed to strike while the iron was hot, to use a blacksmithing phrase (how appropriate).
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'm pretty much doing this for myself at this point, but glad that others seem to like it as well.


	4. Day Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this?! Another new chapter already?! Why yes, it is!
> 
> I've been a busy bee and wrote another chapter. Don't get used to these frequent updates, however, as my school schedule resumes next week and I'll be slammed again.
> 
> Things Are Happening. As well as... other things. I may bump the rating up as we go on. Fair warning.
> 
> And we get more plot! Huzzah!

[ ](https://imgur.com/zOJkn84)

**Arya**

Arya woke up in a cold sweat. Her cheeks were flushed and there was a gnawing in the pit of her stomach.

It was the dream.

Dear Gods the dream she had. 

It was definitely a sex dream. With her in it. Her and Gendry.

She could have sworn her cunt had throbbed at the mere memory of if.

Arya had returned from the forge the day before, smelling of smoke and fire. It was on her skin even.

She knew that’s what he smelled like.

Smoke, sweat, and woodsy.

And she found it turned her on.

She’d never had sex dreams before, not even with Aegon. But this had felt so real. 

It was as though she could still feel the ways his hands moved over her body, rough and strong, yet still gentle. 

Arya may have let out an involuntary moan.

She had no idea how she would face Gendry now that he’d invaded her subconscious. Especially like that.

She stumbled into the bathroom and took a look in the mirror. She looked awful.

Hair unkempt, circles under her eyes, skin all flushed.

She splashed some water on her face and pinched her cheeks. Maybe some breakfast would help.

XXX

Once she’d finished her breakfast, she got cleaned up and got dressed. She knew she’d have to return to the forge and finish what she started. She may have to stare at anywhere but him, but she had to gather her resolve and just do it.

Arya walked the familiar route to the forge and entered, just as she had the previous four days. It was a Friday, and sometimes businesses in the downtown area closed early. 

Things were fairly still inside. She heard the faint clanking of metal on metal and made her way back to the forge. Gendry was at the anvil, pounding on the blade, much like he had been doing the day before. 

Her stomach tightened. He was wearing a tank top and his worn work jeans. His strong, muscular arms bulging with each movement he made. Arya’s heart skipped a beat.

_ Just work practically naked why don’t you? _

She felt her breath catch at that thought. Ever since she caught a glimpse of his toned abs and defined pecs, it was all she could think about. Well, that and the trail of hair on his stomach leading down to parts unknown. 

Thank Gods he was wearing his leather apron and she couldn’t see his crotch. 

Gendry had briefly looked up at her when she entered and she could’ve sworn his face turned red. He switched his attention back to his work, and it seemed as though he was pounding just a little bit harder on the sword.

Arya dug her phone out of her bag and switched the camera on. She knew photos would be a good visual detail to her paper, so she started taking pictures of the swords and other weapons on display in the forge as well as some of the tools. She also took a few of Gendry working away, trying not to shudder at the small thrill she got while taking pictures of him flexing.

From what she could see, the sword looked rather grey and dull as he worked on it. Parts glowed a reddish-orange where he’d heated it. It was pretty long as well.

Gendry stopped hammering and placed the blade in the fire and pumped the bellows. Arya took more pictures of the process. 

“Paparazzi, eh?” Gendry commented, drawing her attention back to him.

“Uhh, yeah. I thought some photographs would be a good visual aid for my paper,” she told him.

“I see,” was all he said.

Off to the side, Arya noticed a tall, cylindrical tube next to a ladder. Soon, she saw what it was for.

Gendry pulled the blade out of the fire and quickly climbed the ladder and stuck the red hot blade into the cylinder. Steam rose off the top as he stood back away from the opening, still holding onto the blade with a pair of tongs.

“Quenching in oil is better than water since water can warp the metal,” he told her.

Arya nodded and jotted it down.

“The reason for all of the cooking oil then?” she asked.

Gendry nodded.

He pulled the blade out of the oil and set it on its edge on the anvil and looked down the length of it. He tutted to himself.

“Slight warp. Dammit. I’m pretty sure I can fix it though.”

Arya did her best to ignore how the sweat made his tank top cling to him and outline his very defined chest. Did she ever try. She suppressed the urge to lick the dip in between his pecs. She felt her mouth go dry all of a sudden and she reached for a bottle of water. 

_ Does this man not own any shirts that fit?! _

She didn’t know why she was complaining, though. She definitely appreciated the sight she was seeing.

Gendry had taken the blade and set it on the anvil. He went over and grabbed a butane torch and fired it up. He took the torch and ran it over the blade a few times. Once he had finished, he gently shaped the blade to where it was straight and examined it again.

“OK, that’s better,” he proclaimed.

He then took a file and scraped it over the edges of the blade and smiled when it skated across the surface. Arya noted the soul-crushing dimples on his cheeks. 

_ Dammit, he has those dimples too. Fuuuuck… _

Gendry took the blade and dipped it into a solution of acid. She asked him why.

“It’s so the pattern shows up,” he said matter-of-factly.

Sure enough, once he removed it from the acid solution, Arya could see a pattern emerge on the surface of the blade. She smiled. It looked beautiful. She said as such.

“Wait’ll I sharpen it and polish it. It’ll really stand out then.”

She could tell he was immensely proud of his work. He should be. He was very good.

“Does that mean it’s finished?” she asked.

“No, I still have to grind the rough edges off, sharpen the blade, polish it and remake the handle. That’ll be for another day or two though,” Gendry said and took a swig of water. Arya tried not to focus on the movement of his Adam’s apple as he drank.

“So tomorrow then?” she remarked.

Gendry shook his head. “Can’t. I’ve got another job to do off-site.”

Arya quirked an eyebrow.

“Do you do door-to-door smithing?”

Gendry chuckled. It was the first time she’d heard him chuckle and it wasn’t at her expense.

“No, nothing like that. I do demonstrations for the local living history museum. It’s set up as a small Medieval town and I do the blacksmithing for the tourists. It’s a pain to have to explain things to people since I mostly just like to work. But, the pay is good, in spite of having to wear a period costume,” he told her, moving to sit next to her. She could feel the heat radiating off of his body and they were close enough to almost touch. She then remembered how much he had touched her in her dream and her stomach did a flip.

“Oh. It sounds interesting. Expect a lot of people?”

“They’re having a festival tomorrow, stuff like jousting tournaments and the like, so it’ll be pretty busy I reckon.”

An idea struck her.

“Can I come? I mean, I am a history major and since I’m doing a paper on historical weapons, I think it would be good to see you work in a historical sort of environment. Is that OK?”

He looked at her and she could swear his breathing quickened and his eyes grew darker. She tried not to look too deeply into his eyes or else she’d get lost in them.

Gendry cleared his throat, “It’s open to the public, so there’s no reason why you couldn’t come if you wanted.” He flicked his gaze away from her suddenly.

“Great! Where’s it at?” she asked excitedly.

Gendry reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He fished out a card and he reached over to grab her pen and she could definitely smell his scent. It was just like she thought. Musky and smokey with woody undertones. She inhaled deeply. It’s as though she wanted to devour him and take him into her body and soul.

_ Good Gods, even working at a hot forge and he smells fantastic. _

He wrote a number down on the back of the card.

“This is my number in case you get lost or anything. This is the address,” he said and flipped the card back over. 

_ Old Town Medieval Living History Museum _

_ Where history comes alive! _

Cheesy, but effective.

“Thank—” she began but found herself almost face to face with Gendry. Her heart began to quicken and she could feel her breathing start to pick up. He’d never been so close to her before. 

“Uhh, sure. No problem,” he said softly. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was almost as though he wanted to kiss her.

Instead, Gendry leaned back and cleared his throat. 

“So, uhh, they usually open at 10:00, if you want to come by,” his voice cracked slightly.

“Yeah, sure…” was all she could say in return.

**Gendry**

He slept like shit last night. Every time he tried to drift off to sleep, a pair of bright grey eyes entered his consciousness. He kept picturing her muscular legs and how they would feel wrapped around his waist, and how he would feel buried deep inside her. 

She a customer, for fuck’s sake!! He can’t be having dirty thoughts about a customer!! No matter how attractive he found her! No matter how long it’s been since he’d had sex.

Gendry threw off his sheets, ignoring how rock hard he was, and stalked straight into the shower, turning the cold water on. It took all of his willpower not to take himself in hand and deal with things right there and then. He felt like he was going to explode.

Eventually, the pent up feelings of desire began to ebb and he could think more clearly now that all the blood was no longer rushing straight to his cock. The sword would be done soon and she’d be gone and out of his life and his world would no longer be upended by the petite brunette with steel-grey eyes.

He threw on his jeans, grabbed a shirt and headed out the door. He’d get breakfast at the corner food truck down the street. 

XXX

Gendry threw himself back into his work. Pounding on metal helped him with his frustrations, sexual and other kinds. It’d take his mind off of things, at least for a while. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her come in. She looked good. Damn good. Wearing a grey v-neck shirt and a pair of denim shorts with her hair in a low ponytail. He cast a glance her way and he could feel himself turn red. He returned to his hammering, aware he may have started pounding the hammer a little too hard.

He could feel his balls tighten and the crotch of his jeans get uncomfortable. Thank Gods he was wearing his leather apron so she couldn’t see his crotch.

Gendry saw her fishing through her bag and pulled out her phone. She began pointing it at the different weapons he had on display in the forge and began taking pictures. He thought he may have seen her take a few of him as he worked at the anvil. He suppressed a grin.

“Paparazzi, eh?” he commented.

“Uhh, yeah. I thought some photographs would be a good visual aid for my paper,” she told him.

“I see,” was all he said.

He’d been sure to fill the larger of the quenching tanks with oil before he got started that morning. Since he was making a Claymore, the blade was longer than his regular one could fit, so he had to use the one reserved for larger projects. Even as tall as he was, he needed a ladder to access the top of it.

Gendry withdrew the blade from the fire and quickly dunked it in the oil. He listened carefully for any pings or crackles indicating any cracks in the steel. He was relieved when he didn’t hear any. He wasn’t sure he’d have enough spare steel to remake the blade if things went wrong. He prayed to the Seven that nothing did.

“Quenching in oil is better than water since water can warp the metal,” he told Arya. 

She nodded and jotted it down.

“The reason for all of the cooking oil then?” she asked.

Gendry nodded.

He pulled the blade out of the oil and set it on its edge on the anvil and looked down the length of it. He tutted to himself.

“Slight warp. Dammit. I’m pretty sure I can fix it though.”

He had hoped for no warps whatsoever, but it was a small one and could be fixed relatively easily. He grabbed the butane torch, lit it and began to reheat the blade. He used the torch instead of sticking it back in the coals since he wanted to concentrate the heat to one specific area rather than the whole blade. Otherwise, it might warp in other places.

He gently maneuvered the blade to where it was straighter and looked at it again.

“OK, that’s better,” he proclaimed.

He then took a file and scraped it over the edges of the blade and smiled when it skated across the surface. Smooth as silk. The blade was hardened. He smiled to himself.

Gendry took the blade and dipped it into a solution of acid. Arya asked him why.

“It’s so the pattern shows up,” he said.

He lifted the blade out of the acid solution and he could see the telltale laddering pattern across the surface. Magnificent. He wiped it down with a cloth.

Arya gave him a bright smile. He felt his pulse quicken. She then said it looked beautiful.

“Wait’ll I sharpen it and polish it. It’ll really stand out then.

“Does that mean it’s finished?” she asked.

“No, I still have to grind the rough edges off, sharpen the blade, polish it and remake the handle. That’ll be for another day or two though,” Gendry said and took a swig of water. Why did he feel so parched? More-so than usual when working in the forge.

“So tomorrow then?” she remarked.

Gendry shook his head. “Can’t. I’ve got another job to do off-site.”

Arya quirked an eyebrow.

“Do you do door-to-door smithing?”

Gendry chuckled. She was cute. He tried to ignore the lump growing in his throat.

“No, nothing like that. I do demonstrations for the local living history museum. It’s set up as a small Medieval town and I do the blacksmithing for the tourists. It’s a pain to have to explain things to people since I mostly just like to work. But, the pay is good, in spite of having to wear a period costume,” he told her, moving to sit next to her. He could smell her scent. She smelled of citrus and wildflowers. It was intoxicating.

Of course, he knew that if he’d be at Old Town,  _ she’d _ probably be there as well, since she worked there also. He could try to avoid her as much as he could, but he had a feeling he’d still run into her. The thought rubbed at him like an open wound.

A soft voice broke through his thoughts.

“Oh. It sounds interesting. Expect a lot of people?” Arya asked him, seemingly genuinely curious.

“They’re having a festival tomorrow, stuff like jousting tournaments and the like, so it’ll be pretty busy I reckon,” he said, trying not to stare at the way the sun shining through the open windows of the forge made her hair seem to glow.

“Can I come? I mean, I am a history major and since I’m doing a paper on historical weapons, I think it would be good to see you work in a historical sort of environment. Is that OK?”

She sounded excited at the prospect of seeing him work in a historical setting. Her eyes were bright and her smile was dazzling. He felt his breath quicken. 

Gendry cleared his throat, “It’s open to the public, so there’s no reason why you couldn’t come if you wanted.” He flicked his gaze away from her suddenly. Gods she was beautiful. But then, so was Laurel.

“Great! Where’s it at?” she asked.

Gendry reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He fished out one of the business cards for the museum he knew he kept there. He leaned over and grabbed her pen. Her scent filled his nostrils and he almost short-circuited.

He wrote his number down on the back of the card.

“This is my number in case you get lost or anything. This is the address,” he said and flipped the card back over. 

_ Yeah, that sounds legit. Right? _

Arya smirked as she read the card. He knew the tagline was cheesy, but they were proud of it for some reason.

Still, it managed to get a reaction out of her all the same.

“Thank—” she began, and he saw how close she was. He was overwhelmed by the sudden urge to kiss her. Well, he wanted to do more than just kiss her, if he was being honest with himself. She paused as well as she too noticed their proximity. Gendry could see her cheeks flush.

Maybe she could feel the electric current that pulsed between them as well.

“Uhh, sure. No problem,” he said softly. 

Gendry cleared his throat. 

“So, uhh, they usually open at 10:00, if you want to come by,” his voice cracked slightly.

_ Dammit. _

“Yeah, sure…” was all she said.

After she had left, Gendry could finally release the breath he’d been holding.

Tomorrow was going to be interesting, that’s for certain. 

He had no idea how he’d get any sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure all of you have figured out by now that Laurel is his ex and she left him damaged. Will her and Arya cross paths?! Tune in to find out!
> 
> And thanks again for reading, everyone!!


	5. Day Four (Old Town Living History Museum and Medieval Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry meet again at the Historical Village where he does blacksmithing demonstrations. A lot of bombshells are dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle in, folks. This one is a looooong one. But, it's plot-related, so please bear with me.
> 
> Feelings and sexual tension occur. We also learn more about Gendry's sexual history and why he's the way he is, poor bean.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

[ ](https://imgur.com/mjDY9AU)

_ Day Four (Old Town Living History Museum and Medieval Village) _

**Arya**

Arya had looked up the address for the living history museum online and was able to figure out where it was located. Just a few miles outside of King’s Landing.

She didn’t know why it was called Old Town since the actual Old Town was clear on the other side of the country. Maybe because it sounded old-timey. She’d have to ask Gendry about that.

Arya smiled at the prospect of seeing Gendry again, especially outside of the forge. She’d had another dream about him last night, with him touching her all over with his strong hands and long fingers, exploring…

It was only when she’d woken up that she found her own hands in between her legs. 

She’d have to play it cool when she went to see him. She’d never felt such intense attraction to someone before. While it was true that Gendry was a fine specimen of maleness, she also felt he was much more than just his physical appearance. Based on the care he took when making the blade of her sword and the health of the plants in his forge, she knew he had a deeper side to him. 

A part of her wished that the process had taken longer so she’d have more reasons to continue to see him. The thought of things being finished so soon brought a heaviness to her heart.

It was a pleasant day today, good weather for the festivities. It was nice and sunny out, so she decided to wear her overall shorts and a blue and white striped boatneck crop top with 3/4 sleeves. She felt, dare she say it, cute.

The parking area was full, but not overcrowded like she’d expected. She could see tents and wooden buildings with colorful banners and awnings gently flapping in the breeze. 

On one of the far fields, Arya could see benches and scaffolding set up for what looked to be a jousting tournament. She felt a buzz of excitement in the air. 

She found the entrance and paid her fee to get in. Since she was a student, she got a discount, which she liked. 

When she paid, she was given a map of the area, and it marked where the exhibitions were and where the food and rest areas could be located. She scanned it to find the blacksmith’s forge and she found it, across from the tavern. 

Arya walked in that direction and felt a small shiver of anticipation run through her body. She didn’t know if it was the excitement of the area or that fact that she’d be seeing Gendry soon. She tried no to let her mind drift to the details of her very intense dream from the night before. And the one before that. 

She soon spotted where the smithy was and slowed down a pace in order to collect her nerves. She could hear the banging of metal and it soothed her some. For some strange reason, she started to like the sounds that would come from the forge. They were comforting to her. They made her think of Gendry. 

She thought about him quite a bit recently. She felt a smile pull at her lips. 

Soon, Arya spotted a dark head bobbing around the smithy, gathering his tools. She bit her lip in quiet admiration. She paused for a moment and just watched him moving. 

Gendry was dressed in a simple off-white linen tunic with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows, a dark green soft leather sleeveless jerkin (suede from the looks of it), brown trousers, brown leather boots, a belt and a pair of leather bracers on his forearms. 

_ Fuck he looks good. _

His tunic and jerkin were opened down to the middle of his chest, so she could see the muscles of his chest flexing as he moved his arms. His black hair was wind tousled and hung in his deep blue eyes rakishly. She could feel the heat pooling in her abdomen already. Why did she feel the urge to rip his tunic off and suck on his chest?

_ Wow. It has been a while for me… _

Arya took out her phone and took a few pictures. ‘For research,’ she told herself, although she doubted the few she took of Gendry (and his chest) would be used for her paper.

She was about to walk over to greet him when a woman approached him. She was tall and blonde and dressed in the period garb of a noblewoman, in rich reds and golds. She had a bit of a haughty air about her. 

The woman was definitely attractive, Arya thought. And she looked as if she knew it too.

The blonde had gotten Gendry’s attention and he looked up and he visibly stiffened. The expression on his face hardened. He turned away and continued busying himself with his work.

The blonde was persistent in talking to him, despite Gendry’s coldness towards her. 

They definitely had a history, Arya thought. And not a great one from Gendry’s body language.

The blonde leaned over a nearby table, pushing her ample bosom together with her upper arms in a flirtatious manner. Gendry did nothing. 

The blonde then shrugged and turned away, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

Gendry still held himself stiffly, like he’d been electrocuted. Arya slowly made her way over to the open-air smithy, a bit hesitant.

“Hey, Gendry,” she greeted him cautiously.

He looked up at her and he smiled. He has such a beautiful smile, she thought.

Gendry seemed to relax as he took her in, almost as if she wasn’t really there and existed in some fantasy.

“Hi,” he said to her warmly. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Of course I was going to come! I like watching you work…” she told him. 

_ And watching you in general _ .

Arya took a good look around at the smithy. There were many similarities between it and the forge, only there were no modern tools in sight. There was a large coal forge and an anvil, yes, but no belt grinder or welding equipment.

Instead there was a stone wheel grinder and a bucket of what looked to be oil and various tongs and metal files.

She also noted that there were some iron bits laying on a table, like keys, pot hooks, door hinges, latches, nails, and horseshoes. She also noticed various pieces of armor in addition to swords, axes, daggers, and cutlery.

“Wow, you made all of this? Including the armor?” she asked, amazed.

Gendry scratched the back of his neck. It was adorable.

“Yeah, a lot of the smaller stuff is from demonstrations, but the armor is for the tournament participants. There’s not much call for it anymore, but it takes time and good quality armor can be pretty popular in these circles.”

Arya hesitated for a moment.

“Who was that blonde woman you were talking to earlier?” 

She didn’t want to sound like she was jealous. She tried not to let her old insecurities rise up to the surface again.

Gendry’s mouth turned down a little.

“Just my ex,” he muttered. 

“Oh, I see.”

“Listen, I have another demonstration coming up soon, if you want to stick around and watch,” he said to her, his eyes becoming a little bit brighter.

“Sure!”

Arya stepped to the side as people came up to the smithy and she watched him demonstrate basic blacksmithing techniques of the time and explained the job of a town blacksmith compared to a castle smith and armorer. He was a natural. She could tell he loved what he did by the way he interacted with the people and showed them his wares. 

She felt someone stand next to her. Arya turned her head and saw a young man in a brown leather jerkin and tan tunic. 

“He says he doesn’t like to do these demonstrations, but you’d never know it by looking at him,” he said to her.

He turned and stuck his hand out.

“Name’s Podrick. People call me Pod. I’m a squire here for one of the knights in the tourney demonstration.”

Arya took his hand.

“Arya Stark.”

Podrick smiled at her. He seemed young, a bit younger than Gendry, but slightly older than her. Or, it could be his boyish face. 

“How long has he been doing this?” she asked, turning back to see Gendry continue his demonstration. She focused on the sharp features of his face, his angular jaw and his high cheekbones. As if he were carved from marble.

“A few years now,” came the answer. “He’d been working for Mr. Mott ever since he was nine or so.”

“Really? His parents let him work so young?” 

Pod paused a moment. Arya could sense his hesitancy.

“He doesn’t have any parents,” he finally said. “His mom died when he was young and he never knew his dad.”

Arya looked back to Gendry. She knew he wouldn’t want any pity, but she did feel a pang of sympathy for him. She couldn’t imagine not having any parents, especially not at such a young age.

While it was true that she didn’t always get along with her mother, she still loved her and knew Caitlyn loved her in her own way.

“He seems happier lately,” Pod spoke up next to her. Arya was caught off guard.

Maybe he did seem a little happier. More-so than when she first met him and he gave off waves of hostility and anger. He seemed a little bit… lighter somehow.

She thought she saw a swish of red and gold out of the corner of her eye. It was the blonde from before. 

Gendry’s ex.

The blonde looked at him with a hunger that Arya recognized.

It was a similar sort of hunger that Arya herself probably gave when looking at him. 

And she didn’t like it one bit.

“Do you know his ex?” she finally asked Pod.

Pod’s lips drew into a thin line.

“Yeah, not very well though. Her name is Laurel. Laurel Lannister. She plays the damsel the knights curry favor for during the tournament. While she’s beautiful on the outside, her personality is something else…”

Pod didn’t elaborate, but Arya could fill in the pieces. She’d known girls like Laurel growing up. Sansa used to be like that. As were many of her friends. 

And Arya was their target many of the times.

Sansa had grown out of it eventually, but the wounds still lingered. 

“She finally showed her true colors, though. She pretty much used Gendry because of his looks. And it looks like she’s on the prowl again,” Pod commented. 

_ This explains a lot. Fucking bitch broke his heart.  _

Arya knew he’d had his walls up, but she never knew why. Now she discovered that this pretty blonde had taken his precious heart and smashed into pieces. He’s never fully healed.

_ Boy, would I like to give her a piece of my mind… _

But she wasn’t going to cause a scene here in such a public place and embarrass Gendry like that. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know what time it is, would you?” Pod asked her.

“Sure, it’s almost noon,” she told him while looking at her watch.

“Thanks. We’re supposed to be in character and there weren’t any watches back then, so I’m always having to ask people. I need to get back. The tourney’s going to be starting soon. It was nice talking to you.”

“Yes, and you as well,” Arya responded.

Pod waved and walked off. 

Arya looked back over to the smithy and saw Gendry was finishing up his demonstration. The crowd applauded and began to disperse. She walked over to him as he began to reorganize his tools.

“You were great!” she told him, smiling.

Gendry smiled softly at her.

“Thanks. It’s pretty routine by now,” he explained. He dunked his hands in a barrel of water and dried them on a cloth.

“Are you going on break soon? I figured maybe we could get a bite to eat,” she said.

“Yeah, we can go to the tavern across the way. They have good food.”

“Sounds great! I’m famished!”

Gendry smiled at her again, flashing those killer dimples. Arya loved seeing those dimples. She saw them more frequently now.

He exited the smithy and escorted her to the tavern. They got a table and sat down. Arya liked the atmosphere of the place, it was warm and inviting. She doubted the taverns at the time were so friendly, but since this was a place for tourists, they needed to attract a more diverse clientele.

Once the server had taken their order (Arya opted for the roast chicken and Gendry settled for stew), Arya took a sip of her water, bursting with questions she didn’t think she should ask. 

Like about Laurel. 

And about his parents.

But she didn’t think they were at a point in their friendship (were they friends?) to ask things that were so personal, and might dredge up some bad memories for him.

“So, I met Pod,” she said instead.

Gendry’s eyebrows arched up.

“Oh really? He’s a pretty good egg. Me and him get along pretty well. He’s one of the first people I met when I started doing this,” he told her.

“He seems pretty nice. You’re lucky to have a friend like him,” she said sincerely. 

Gendry smiled again. 

“Yeah, I suppose I am. I like having you for a friend too…” he trailed off, afraid he was giving away too much.

Arya smiled. So he did think of her as a friend, rather than just a client. That made her happy. 

Although if he knew the thoughts she was having about him, he might change his mind.

“And I like having you as a friend too,” she answered back. She hoped she wasn’t being too vague. As much as the thought of being more than friends with him gave her a secret thrill, she didn’t want to seem as though she was coming on too strong for him. Especially considering his past with his ex. 

It was dark in the tavern, so she couldn’t see the blueness of his eyes shining back at her. 

Arya excuses herself to use the restroom and wash her hands before she eats.

As she’s at the sink, she hears a voice behind her.

“I saw you with Gendry earlier,” it said.

Arya looks up and sees the girl named Laurel exiting one of the stalls.

Her blood runs cold.

“Yeah. So?” she shot back. 

Laurel sashayed to the sink and turned on the water. Arya didn’t miss the haughty look on her face.

“You don’t seem his type,” Laurel sneered.

Arya knit her eyebrows together in anger.

“Oh? And just what would his type be, pray tell?”

Laurel threw her hair over her shoulder with a shake of her head.

“Someone who will meet his needs. Emotionally, sexually. A woman. Not some little girl…”

Arya could feel her anger rise. She didn’t want to cause a scene, but she felt an urge to punch this girl in the face.

“Little girl, huh. I may be small in stature, but I am more woman than you’ll ever be. I like Gendry for who he is as a person, not just for his physical appearance,” Arya spat out.

“And I suppose his trust fund makes no difference?” 

Wait, what?

“Trust fund?”

Laurel sneered.

“Oh? You mean you don’t know about his inheritance? His father was Robert Baratheon and when he died, he left him a nice inheritance. So he’s pretty set for life. Why he continues with this blacksmithing business makes no sense,” Laurel sniffed and checked her makeup in the mirror.

_Wait. Is this bitch accusing me of being a gold digger?! That’s rich. And Robert Baratheon? Dad’s old friend Robert Baratheon?! He’s Gendry’s father?!_

Something inside Arya snapped. She whirled and faced Laurel.

“Listen, I could give two shits on how much money Gendry does or doesn’t have. And he does smithing because he loves it, and he’s good at it. He’s an artist with metal. And the last thing he needs is for some money-grubbing ho bag trying to slide into his DM’s just because she wants to get into his pants and into his bank account. And I don’t care who his baby daddy was. He made himself who he is without the help of that deadbeat, so you can just fuck off!”

Arya stalked out the restroom without bothering to look back.

She saw Gendry seated at the table where she’d left him and tried to school her features so he wouldn’t see the rage she felt. 

The utter nerve of that bitch! How dare she throw those sorts of accusations in her face! She had no idea the kind of person Arya was. And, from the sounds of it, she didn’t know the kind of person Gendry was either.

True, Arya had only known him less than a week, but from what she’d observed, she could see the kind of person he was. Robb had always said she was very observant and could get a good sense of people. 

She took some deep breaths before sitting back down across from Gendry. She had a feeling he could still see some of her emotion on her face because he gave her a quizzical look.

“Is everything ok?” he asked.

“Err, yeah…”

She debated on how much to tell him. The bombshell about his father was still whirling in her mind. She wondered if it was the same Robert Baratheon who was friends with her dad. She’d met him a few times when she was younger. He was a fat old drunkard who chased after any skirt which crossed his path. He’d always give her the strangest looks, especially as she got older. It creeped her out.

But, she did recall his dark blue eyes and black hair that she saw with Gendry. And from some of the earlier pictures her dad had shown her once, Robert used to be quite fit and handsome.

Arya sighed. She needed to be open and honest with him. 

“I heard about Laurel. Pod told me. And I saw her in the restroom,” she confessed. She couldn’t look him in the eye. 

“Oh.”

Suddenly everything came out in a rush and she couldn’t stop herself.

“And she told me about your trust fund and that your biological dad was Robert Baratheon and I may have told her to shove it up her ass and that you work hard at doing what you love and you’re an artist with metal and at least I’m not a gold-digging hussy like a certain someone and that I like you for who you are and it has nothing to do with your parentage or anything!” she blurted out.

Gendry just stared at her with wide eyes.

_ Fuuuuuck… _

“You told her to shove it up her ass?” he asked her.

“I… may have,” she said quietly.

And then she heard snickering. Gendry was laughing. Was he laughing at her?

She looked up and into his face and he was laughing. And he looked beautiful when he laughed.

“I would’ve loved to have seen her face when you told her that!” he chuckled.

Arya felt a smile bloom across her face. She felt a huge wave of relief wash over her. 

Their food arrived and she’d almost forgotten how hungry she was. She tucked into her chicken ravenously. The way Gendry looked at her, she could almost devour him as well.

“What happened between the two of you, if you don’t mind me asking?” she questioned tentatively. 

Gendry sighed, but he didn’t seem upset that she asked.

“She cheated on me with one of the knights who participate in the tournaments here. I caught her fucking him in one of the tents. Didn’t even try to hide it either,” he said with his eyes downcast. 

Now Arya was even more pissed at her.

“Wow, what a fucking bitch. She accused me of wanting to get into your pants and that I’d never be able to meet your needs. What nerve…”

She then realized what she said about meeting his needs and she could feel herself turn ten shades of red. 

_ Why don’t I just blurt it out that I’ve been having sex dreams about him for fuck’s sake? _

“Umm, yeah. She always did have a bit of a mouth on her,” was all he said in return. He returned to eating his stew, a blush coloring his cheeks.

Arya did her best to ignore the pounding in her chest and the breath catching in her throat.

She’d begun to suspect that she felt more for him than friendship.

**Gendry**

He wanted to get to the museum smithy before the crowds came so that he could get things set up. 

This was the first time he’d been back since the place reopened for the season. It was getting warmer out, so outdoor activities and the village set up were opening up again for tourists and field trip excursions.

Of course, it also meant that he'd most likely run into Laurel again. The convenience of having seasonal hours was that the last time he saw her was when he caught her fucking Ser What’s-His-Name in the tent. He’d confronted her about it and she made excuses naturally, but he was so disgusted he couldn’t bear to look at her.

It’s not like she was the love of his life or anything, but he’d at least expected a little loyalty, especially since he was loyal to her. 

That was last winter. Now it was spring and it still galled him. 

Maybe if he focused more on Arya’s bright grey eyes and warm smile.

And perhaps less on the fact that he wanted to bend her over his anvil.

He woke up hard again that morning. This was beginning to be too much to bear. He’d never be able to face her again if she knew that his desire for her was becoming stronger by the day.

Gendry cursed his seemingly uncontrollable libido.

It wasn’t just the fact that he was strongly attracted to her. He enjoyed her company, in spite of the way he complained at first. She somehow managed to wiggle her way into his affections, with her inquisitive questions and curiosity. 

Fuck. He wasn’t going to think of her wiggling on top of him.

Deep down he knew not everyone was like Laurel. He’d been burned too many times for his liking. It wasn’t his mom’s fault she’d gotten sick and died when he was only nine. He did blame his sperm donor for not bothering to be a part of his life before he’d died. Now all he had left was a trust fund of money he didn’t want and no real family.

Well, Tobho was pretty much the only real family he had.

But Gendry could feel his walls start to crumble around Arya. He’d spent years building them up, only to have a petite brunette knock them down over the course of a few days.

Once everything was set up, he started up the forge in order for it to be hot enough to be ready for the demonstrations. A part of him felt foolish like he was performing in front of an audience like a trained monkey. But, the pay was decent and he liked testing out different skills and techniques. 

The weather was nice, and he liked the fact that the smithy had open spaces so the breeze could come through and cool things off a bit. It was much worse in the summertime where the heat almost overwhelmed him.

He started knocking out a few nails while he waited when he felt someone approach him. He got excited for a moment, thinking perhaps it was Arya.

He was wrong.

She was dressed in the maiden’s costume she wore for her ‘role’ as the young maid the knights would curry favor for. Little did the crowds know she was anything but.

Gendry could feel his blood run cold just from her presence.

“Hello Laurel…” he bit out.

“Hi, Gendry,” she answered, breathily.

“What do you want?” he asked curtly, hoping to speed things along so she’d leave.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing, is all? Have a nice winter?”

“Yes,” he said tightly.

She leaned forward, pushing her chest out, exposing her cleavage in her low cut bodice.

“Are you still mad at me?” she said with a pout.

“What do you think?” he snapped.

“I said I was sorry! It was just one of those things that happened! No one could ever measure up to you… if you know what I mean.”

The innuendo was not lost on Gendry. He knew what she really wanted. She’d gotten wind of his trust fund and, despite the fact that she came from the powerful Lannister family, she wanted to sink her claws in it. 

“Go away, Laurel. I said we were done and I meant it.”

She flicked her gaze down to his chest peeking out of his tunic. She had a hunger in her eyes. It made his stomach turn. 

Laurel shrugged and turned on her heel, flicking her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she left. 

Gendry looked down to steady himself and he noticed how tightly his fists were clenched. He let out the breath he was holding and closed his eyes.

He soon felt another presence come close. He opened his eyes and saw Arya standing there, looking radiant. She was dressed in those overall shorts he found surprisingly sexy, with the way they showed off her toned and muscular legs. She had on a cropped striped top with a wide neckline and sleeves just past the elbows. He tried not to focus on the bare skin of her torso and how soft it would feel under his fingers. 

Her hair was braided loosely and draped over her shoulder and he could see the white skin of her long neck and how much he wanted to kiss and lick it. 

“Hey, Gendry,” she greeted him cautiously.

He looked up at her and he smiled. He found himself smiling more with her.

Gendry felt himself relax and release the tension he’d been holding ever since Laurel showed up.

“Hi,” he said to her warmly. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Of course I was going to come! I like watching you work…” she told him. 

Arya came closer and looked around the smithy. She seemed in genuine awe as she glanced over everything. He could smell her scent. That alluring mix of citrus and wildflowers.

“Wow, you made all of this? Including the armor?” she asked, amazed.

Gendry scratched the back of his neck. It was a nervous habit of his.

“Yeah, a lot of the smaller stuff is from demonstrations, but the armor is for the tournament participants. There’s not much call for it anymore, but it takes time and good quality armor can be pretty popular in these circles.”

Arya hesitated for a moment.

“Who was that blonde woman you were talking to earlier?” 

Oh. So she’d seen Laurel. He was hoping they didn’t run into each other. For some reason, he felt that Laurel would taint Arya just by her presence.

Gendry’s mouth turned down a little.

“Just my ex,” he muttered. 

“Oh, I see.”

“Listen, I have another demonstration coming up soon if you want to stick around and watch,” he said to her, pushing Laurel out of his thoughts.

“Sure!”

Arya moved off to the side and people began to gather. He started his spiel about medieval blacksmithing and what a town smith did as compared to a castle armorer and farrier. He could see Arya out of the corner of his eye taking pictures with her phone. He also saw Pod standing next to her. He tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy he felt because he knew Pod had quite a reputation with the ladies.

He also saw Laurel was there as well. 

By the time he was finished wrapping up his demonstration, having made more nails and some pot hooks, he saw Arya coming over. And she was alone.

He also realized he was hungry.

“You were great!” she told him, smiling.

Gendry smiled softly at her.

“Thanks. It’s pretty routine by now,” he explained. He dunked his hands in a barrel of water and dried them on a cloth.

“Are you going on break soon? I figured maybe we could get a bite to eat,” she said.

“Yeah, we can go to the tavern across the way. They have good food.”

“Sounds great! I’m famished!”

He smiled again. He hadn’t smiled so much in quite a long time. Yet, whenever Arya was around, he found himself doing it more often.

Gendry escorted her over to The Peach, the tavern that was set up as a part of the experience of the living history museum and the town that was a part of it. 

They were seated at a table and looked over the menus. He decided on the beef stew, which was always pretty good, especially if his friend Hot Pie was cooking. Arya ordered the chicken. 

He could see Arya was bursting with wanting to say something but was holding herself back. He was about ready to speak when she spoke first.

“So, I met Pod,” she said.

Gendry’s eyebrows arched up.

“Oh really? He’s a pretty good egg. Me and him get along pretty well. He’s one of the first people I met when I started doing this,” he told her.

“He seems pretty nice. You’re lucky to have a friend like him,” she said sincerely. 

Gendry smiled again. 

“Yeah, I suppose I am. I like having you for a friend too…” he trailed off, afraid he was giving away too much.

Shit. Was he overstepping? He was having sex dreams about this woman for fuck’s sake! Intense ones.

Arya smiled at him. That beautiful smile.

“And I like having you as a friend too,” she answered back.

Gendry tried to will his heart to calm down. 

He wanted to reach out and touch her. But he was afraid that if he did, he'd never let her go.

Arya excused herself to use the restroom and wash her hands.

Gendry sat at the table, tapping his fingers against the smooth wood.

He was in worse trouble than he thought. In spite of only being 22, he’d never really experienced what it was like being in love. Whatever had felt for Laurel, it wasn’t love, merely infatuation. And a bit of lust if he were to admit it. 

Sure, she was a decent lay, but that’s pretty much all there was to their relationship. Mostly sex. They never talked or really got to know one another on a deeper level. After a while, even the sex got to be tiresome. 

Hells, even before he’d caught her cheating, he was thinking of breaking things off with her. Every time he tried, she’d undress him and suck his cock, taking his mind off of it. He felt dirty afterward.

Used.

The thought made Gendry squeamish. He wanted to fold in on himself and disappear. Even the other girls he’d been with before had never made him feel such a way. They knew what they wanted. Just a good time. 

And he was angry and lost and didn’t want to feel anything but momentary pleasure. True, he was aware enough to use protection. He didn’t want to leave some poor girl in the lurch as his father had with his mom. He was better than that, he knew for certain.

Gendry looked up and saw Arya come back, looking pissed. He didn’t know what happened in the restroom, but it obviously wasn’t good.

He could see her pause to try and collect herself, but he could still see the fury blazing in her eyes. 

She sat back down at the table, breathing heavily.

“Is everything ok?” he asked.

“Err, yeah…”

She sat, staring at the table, her emotions flickering across her face.

Arya sighed heavily.

“I heard about Laurel. Pod told me. And I saw her in the restroom,” she confessed. She couldn’t look him in the eye. 

“Oh.”

Suddenly everything came out in a rush of words. How she’d heard about his father and the trust fund he’d been left. How she thought he was an artist with metal and that he worked hard at what he did and it showed in the quality of his work. And how she’d told off Laurel and to stick her opinions where the sun didn't shine.

Gendry looked at her in amazement. She really was a force of nature. 

He thinks he may be falling in love with her.

“You told her to shove it up her ass?” he asked her.

“I… may have,” she said quietly.

He couldn’t stop the snicker of laughter that escaped his lips. 

“I would’ve loved to have seen her face when you told her that!” he chuckled.

Arya’s face softened. Her shoulders shook in silent laughter. 

Their food arrived and they started eating. The stew was especially delicious, but maybe because he was sharing a meal with an attractive and warm woman.

“What happened between the two of you, if you don’t mind me asking?” she questioned tentatively. 

Gendry sighed, he saw this coming. And he wasn’t as bothered by it as he thought.

“She cheated on me with one of the knights who participate in the tournaments here. I caught her fucking him in one of the tents. Didn’t even try to hide it either,” he said with his eyes downcast. 

A sour look crossed Arya’s face.

“Wow, what a fucking bitch. She accused me of wanting to get into your pants and that I’d never be able to meet your needs. What nerve…

He saw her blush a little. It was adorable.

“Umm, yeah. She always did have a bit of a mouth on her,” was all he said in return. He returned to eating his stew, a blush coloring his own cheeks.

They continued eating and made small talk until it was time to leave.

This day had definitely turned out for the better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, Laurel's a bitch and used our poor Gendry for his hot bod. She never took his feelings into consideration, because she never really cared about him. So, he definitely deserves better... like Arya for instance.
> 
> And this will definitely be the last update for a little while. I will try to write in between school assignments so you all won't be hanging for too long. I promise!!!
> 
> Love you all!!


	6. Day Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks to my professors for giving us some leeway when assignments can be turned in, so it gave me another excuse to procrastinate and write another chapter. 
> 
> I guess that's the only good thing to come out of this pandemic we're currently undergoing.
> 
> So, we get lots more thirst and some eating of the eye candy... and a wee bit more.
> 
> And I think I pretty much have my chapter count ready.

[ ](https://imgur.com/2sletLP)

_Day Five_

**Arya**

The time was almost here. When the sword would be finished. Gendry had said that he needed to make the handle and give the blade one last polish and sharpening and it’d be ready.

Arya had been excited at first, but the more she came to realize it would mean not seeing Gendry anymore. Her heart sank at that prospect.

She’d hope the little gift she’d gotten him would be a nice token of appreciation. She struggled somewhat with some way of showing how much she enjoyed watching him work and the beauty of his craftsmanship… and the craftsman doing it.

She tried not to think of him wearing his leather apron… and nothing else.

Arya walked into the shop and Mott never bothered to look up from his paperwork. She was a familiar sight by now. She threw him a wave and he nodded his head in return.

The forge itself was strangely quiet. She found she rather missed the sounds of metal hitting metal. It was almost like music to her at this point. She wondered if Gendry felt that way as well.

She was wearing her overall shorts again, mostly because she saw the looks Gendry gave her when she wore them to the recreation village the other day. Like he wanted to devour her. 

Arya hid a small smirk. If only he knew…

Gendry had his back to her, working at the table saw. He had pieces of styrofoam and a pen and paper on his workbench. He was wearing a pair of black jeans and a faded denim shirt, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, exposing his firm forearms.

_ Is he kidding me with this?! How is it this man can look so fucking hot without even trying?! _

Arya cleared her throat and saw him turn around. Naturally, her eyes gravitated to where his shirt was open, exposing his chiseled chest. She could feel moisture pooling between her legs.

He flashed her a dazzling smile, showing his dimples and accentuating his sharp cheekbones. She felt as though she could melt into a puddle right there on the floor of the forge.

“Hi!” he said to her, his blue eyes bright and shining. Such a contrast when she first met him, when he barely even said two words to her.

“Hi, there,” she returned, a small smile playing at her lips. She could feel a blush rising on her cheeks, and the rest of her body felt warm.

Gendry turned around to face her fully, his blue eyes standing out even more being accentuated by the dark blue denim of his shirt. His black hair was tousled like he’d been running his hands through it, which Arya found to be unbelievably sexy.

Arya moved to sit on her usual stool while Gendry gave what appeared to be an appraising look over. 

_ Yeah, the overalls were a good choice. _

“So, what’s happening today?” she asked him, her voice going a note higher than she’d planned.

“I’m going to make the handle today,” he told her.

“Can I watch?”

“Sure.”

Arya nodded over to the table saw. “What’re you doing there?”

Gendry turned and picked up a few pieces of styrofoam that he’d cut into the design of the crossguard and disk pommel. 

“I cut and shaped these in order to make a casting of them out of bronze. I have a length of weirwood to make the handle out of,” he explained to her.

Arya felt her breath catch in her throat. Weirwood? Like, from one of the trees her family had on their estate? The sacred trees?

“Weirwood?”

Gendry nodded, “Yeah. I figured since your family has such close ties to the North, that making the grip out of a piece of weirwood would be a nice touch. It’s good and sturdy wood, so it’ll make for a good handle grip.”

Arya could feel the tears burning at the back of her eyes. She hadn’t told him she was from the North, so he must’ve either asked someone or looked up her family. He wanted to add a piece of weirwood as a way to honor her family’s old traditions and make the sword even more special as an heirloom.

He must’ve noticed her silence because his eyebrows knit and he looked at her quizzically.

“Is something wrong?” he asked her.

She shook herself out of her brief revelry. 

“No, nothing is wrong. I just— I think it’s a perfect touch is all. My dad will love it.”

Gendry smiled at her again. Yes, he did seem to smile more since she first met him. 

He showed her the drawing he’d made of the design and she was impressed with the detail. The disc pommel looked to have a wolf’s head on it, in the middle of a howl. The grip was composed of weirwood. The crossguard was 12 inches long and the ends had little wolves bursting forth. Written across it was the Stark family motto: ‘Winter Is Coming’. It looked beautiful.

Once Gendry had taken some sandpaper and shaped the foam to the shape he wanted, he took a couple of wooden boxes and packed wet sand into them. He placed the foam pieces in the middle and packed more sand in. He made two holes in the sand, which he explained was where he was going to pour the molten bronze into. Once the molten metal was poured, it would melt the foam and fill in the space where the foam had been. 

He also explained how important it was to pack the sand in tightly so that the bronze wouldn’t lose its shape.

Once he’d done that, he went over to a cylindrical tank with a length of pipe attached to it. He grabbed a pair of gloves and a pair of tongs and opened the top. He reached in with the tongs and pulled out a canister. He called it a crucible.

Gendry then carefully, and quickly, went over to where he made the molds and poured the molten bronze into the holes he’d made. Arya could see the metal bubble up out of the holes when he finished pouring. He set the crucible aside and said he needed to wait for the bronze to solidify before he could open the molds to see if they were properly cast.

In the meantime, he took the length of weirwood and placed it on the lathe and grabbed some chisels and a set of calipers. He measured the drawing and transferred the measurements onto the piece of wood. He turned on the lathe and began to shape the wood into a smooth handle by carefully shaving off slivers of material. Arya was so mesmerized by the process she almost forgot to take notes.

Gendy also showed her the design he had for the scabbard, which was to be made of black leather with brass elements. The original scabbard had been lost millennia ago, so this extra step was appreciated.

He worked some on the scabbard as the bronze cooled in the molds. Once enough time had passed where Gendry felt the pommel and crossguard were ready to be removed from the sand molds, he took a set of tongs, grabbed the sides of the wooden boxes with them, and knocked the sand out. 

He dug through the piles of sand to pull out the pieces. To Arya, they looked like lumps of metal, but Gendry told her that the molds held and all he had to do was cut off the excess brass and grind and sand down the pieces that were to make up the crossguard and pommel.

As he was shaping the pieces, Arya could see the shapes begin to show up. Gendry worked at the belt grinder, the wire polishing wheel and then the regular polishing wheel, with a bit of polishing compound to make them shine. He showed them to her and they gleamed brilliantly. 

Arya could see the detail of the wolves on the pommel and the crossguard and was moved.

“Once I take the detail tool, the finer elements will be more prominent, and I’ll inscribe the crossguard with the family motto,” he said to her. 

He crossed over to his workbench once again and took down a small, handheld electric tool and began to carve in the fine details. He explained that brass was a soft metal and fairly easy to inscribe.

Once he finished, he took the blade, which he wrapped in butcher paper to protect it, and assembled the pieces of the handle. He grabbed some epoxy and mixed it together. He placed the epoxy on the tang and then the separate pieces of the handle and put them together on the sword itself. He took a rag and cleaned up any overspill.

“When it's completely dry, I’ll grind it smooth, polish it, and put some protective wax on the wood of the handle. And then it’ll be finished.”

He said that last part rather reluctantly, Arya thought she noted.

“Right,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment. 

She went over to where she put her stuff and picked up the paper bag she’d brought. She then walked back over to stand in front of Gendry.

“I wanted to give you a token of appreciation to show how much you doing this has meant. I mean, I know it’s probably just another job, but it seems so much more to me. The time and craftsmanship you’ve put into it can never be repaid enough, no matter the price. So, I want you to have this,” she rushed out and thrust the paper bag in his hands.

Gendry looked confused, but reached inside the bag and pulled out the item.

It was a spider plant.

Arya initially thought that a plant would be a rather lame gift, but she saw that he liked plants and that they were well cared for. She figured he might already have a spider plant (or more than one), but it was something she was drawn to.

“The lady at the plant nursery said spider plants are pretty hardy and easy to care for, so I thought it was a good choice. I don’t know if you already have one or not, but I thought it might be a nice thank you gift.”

She looked down at her feet for a few moments before the silence made her look up and into his face. 

Gendry was holding onto the spider plant with a strong but gentle grip. His eyes had gone wide and he looked rather dumbstruck.

_ Great. He hates it. I knew it was a stupid thing to do… _

The next thing she knew, however, was Gendry placing the plant carefully on his workbench and leaned in and captured her lips in a searing kiss.

It took Arya a few moments to register what he was doing and the tingling sensations it brought her. Soon enough, however, her brain caught up with her lips and she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with a burning intensity. 

She felt as though a fire had been lit inside her, much like a forge itself. He, in return, wrapped his strong arms around her and drew her closer to him. She ran her fingers through the thick hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on it as the kiss deepened. 

Arya flicked her tongue against his lips, seeking an invitation. He granted it and her tongue sought his out eagerly. She had to stand on her tiptoes in order to reach him, damn him and his tallness.

Gendry sucked her bottom lip in between his teeth and the sensation drove Arya crazy. It was the most passionate and intense kiss she’d ever received and her desire overrode her other senses. 

She wanted more of him. She _needed_ more of him. She wanted to be surrounded by him, wanted him inside of her, to breathe him in and soak him into her pores. He smelled of smoke, metal, and earthy musk. It was so very _him_.

They had to break apart in order to catch their breath. They were both heaving with a lack of oxygen as well as desire. Her fists were clenched into the front of his shirt and she had to suppress the intense urge to rip it open and rake her nails down the front of his chest.

“Sorry, I- don’t know why I did that…” he said, looking embarrassed. His blue eyes were wide and the pupils were blown so they looked almost black.

Gendry started to pull away, but Arya kept him in her iron grip. This was the first time she’d gotten to touch him, and she found she couldn’t let him go.

“No, it’s fine. Really. I take it this means you like the plant?”

Gendry chuckled, “Yeah, I do.”

Arya bit her lip and released her grip on his shirt, running her hands down his front in an attempt to smooth out the wrinkles she’d made from her fists. She also wanted an opportunity to really feel the firmness of his chest. She wasn’t disappointed.

“So, do you want to go on a date with me?” she asked him.

**Gendry**

All he had left was making the handle and the scabbard. Then, the sword would be finished and Arya wouldn’t be stopping by the forge anymore. 

Gendry tried not to dwell on it too much. He’d always tried to put up a barrier around his emotions so he’d never be hurt again. He’d be pretty successful so far. Even Laurel hadn’t managed to worm her way in, despite the way he felt when he found her fucking that one guy. That incident only cemented his decision not to allow himself to be vulnerable again.

Yet, somehow, he found himself warming up to this pint-sized powerhouse that was Arya Stark. She never tried to hustle him or get him drunk or made obvious flirtatious banter just to get into his pants. She was inquisitive and intelligent.

She was also effortlessly beautiful. She was simply herself and it showed in everything she did. The way she spoke, the way she moved, in her laugh and her smile. 

Gendry felt jittery and nervous around her for some reason, and it was different from when he’d first met her and pegged her as just some rich girl. 

Then she was hanging around all the time as he worked. She’d ask questions about the steps and various techniques of bladesmithing, as well as the historical contexts of it. He found her intriguing.

He absentmindedly buttoned up his denim shirt and ran his hands through his hair. Since there wasn’t any forging to be done, he didn’t feel the need to wear his threadbare clothes. For some reason, he didn’t want to look like some sort of bum when Arya came by today. He never cared about his appearance much before. He’d clean up and shave and get a haircut on occasion, but nothing special. 

True, he went to the gym to work out, but he did that for health reasons. He didn’t want to turn into some sort of fat slob like his birth father. While he’d never met Robert Baratheon, he’d seen pictures and knew of his reputation. Especially after his death and the executor of his estate came around and told him of the trust fund in his name.

He never earned that money, so he certainly wasn’t going to use any of it. Still, Davos, that was the man’s name, set up a trust fund for him that would earn interest as it sat in a bank account under Gendry’s name. 

As far as he was concerned, that’s where it would stay. His ‘father’ never wanted anything to do with him when he was born, never mind the fact that he never got in touch with him after his mother died.

Thankfully, Tobho took him in after he tried to break into the shop one night to find a place to sleep, and maybe some food. He’d run away from another foster home and Tobho decided to take him in and redirect all of his anger into making things out of metal. 

Gendry had a real knack for it too. Tobho told him he’d look after him and give him a place to stay, as long as he finished school. He was a decent student, but he was glad to be finished with it after high school so that he could work more on making blades and working the forge. 

Once he made his way back down to the forge, he sketched out the handle design onto a sheet of paper and cut out the patterns for the brass parts, the disk pommel, and the crossguard. He’d looked up the history of the Stark family and discovered their sigil was a dire wolf and what their family motto was. They were an old family, going back many centuries. 

His was too, he supposed.

Gendry took some styrofoam and outlined the parts he wanted to cast out of brass onto them. Granted, the traditional smiths didn’t have styrofoam to use and had to make individual molds, but this way was just as effective. 

He took the styrofoam and went over to the table saw and began to cut out the outlines for the brass parts. 

He heard someone behind him clearing their throat. He knew exactly who it was. 

He turned and saw Arya standing there, looking a little dazed. He smiled.

She had her hair in two low pigtails and those overall shorts he thought made her legs look amazing. She had on a dark blue t-shirt underneath with a scoop-necked collar and cap sleeves. 

He was trying his damndest not to picture her in those overalls with nothing underneath.

_ Shit… _

Gendry had to use all of his willpower to not make his cock hard at the thought of her in next to nothing.

“Hi!” he said, genuinely happy to see her.

“Hi, there!” she said in return, smiling.

“So, what’s happening today?” she asked him.

“I’m going to make the handle today,” he told her.

“Can I watch?”

“Sure.”

Arya nodded over to the table saw. “What’re you doing there?”

Gendry turned and picked up a few pieces of styrofoam that he’d cut into the design of the hilt and disk pommel. 

“I cut and shaped these in order to make a casting of them out of bronze. I have a length of weirwood to make the handle out of,” he explained to her.

She paused briefly. A look of slight surprise coloring her features.

“Weirwood?” she said.

Gendry figured she’d pick up on that particular detail. He’d read about how weirwood trees were sacred to the people of the North, and with the history of the sword, he knew it’d be a nice touch. The original handle was too damaged to be used, so making a new handle was the only option.

Gendry nodded, “Yeah. I figured since your family has such close ties to the North, that making the grip out of a piece of weirwood would be a nice touch. It’s good and sturdy wood, so it’ll make for a good handle grip.”

He could see that her eyes were shining with unshed tears. He hoped he hadn’t overstepped or anything. The last thing he wanted was to upset her or cause her any pain.

“Is something wrong?” he asked her.

She shook herself out of her brief revelry. 

“No, nothing is wrong. I just— I think it’s a perfect touch is all. My dad will love it.”

Gendry smiled at her again. Good. He was glad he made the right choice.

He did notice that he seemed to smile a lot more since he met her. He couldn’t help himself. She had that sort of effect on him. 

He showed her the design he’d come up with for the handle and explained to her what each piece was made of and that he was cutting the pieces for the mold for the brass parts.

Gendry cleaned up the styrofoam and then went over to where the casting tank was and set up the boxes and the sand for the molds. He made sure to explain the process to her as she looked on with rapt attention. 

He poured the molten brass into the molds and he hoped the molds were sturdy enough to hold their shape. He’d done this numerous times before with relatively few problems, but sometimes things fucked up, and he’d have to start over again.

While he was waiting for the brass to solidify, he began work on shaping the weirwood block for the grip of the handle. He made sure to measure more than once to ensure everything would fit properly. Weirwood was difficult to come by, so he had to make sure all the measurements were accurate. He turned on the lathe and began to shave the wood down. He was also acutely aware of Arya’s presence near him.

No, he was not going to take her right there and then on his workbench, no matter how much he wanted to.

Gendry also worked on the scabbard. Since he was reconstructing the sword, it also needed a scabbard to safely store and transport it. A nice and supple leather would work well, with metallic accents.

Soon, he took the molds apart and dug out the brass pieces. He was in luck, they’d held their shape. To Arya, they looked like lumps of brass, but he told her that once he cut away the excess metal and polished them, they’d look like the pommel and crossguard.

Gendry worked at the belt grinder, the wire polishing wheel and then the regular polishing wheel, with a bit of polishing compound to make them shine. He showed them to her and they gleamed brilliantly. 

“Once I take the detail tool, the finer elements will be more prominent, and I’ll inscribe the crossguard with the family motto,” he said to her. 

He crossed over to his workbench once again and took down a small, handheld electric tool and began to carve in the fine details. He explained that brass was a soft metal and fairly easy to inscribe.

Once he finished, he took the blade, which he wrapped in butcher paper to protect it, and assembled the pieces of the handle. He grabbed some epoxy and mixed it together. He placed the epoxy on the tang and then the separate pieces of the handle and put them together on the sword itself. He took a rag and cleaned up any overspill.

“When it's completely dry, I’ll grind it smooth, polish it, and put some protective wax on the wood of the handle. And then it’ll be finished.”

Gendry tried to hide the disappointment in his voice as he spoke. He’d always maintained an air of professionalism with his customers, but all of that seemed to fall away once Arya came into his life. He didn’t want to feel that pang of emptiness again. He knew he had to try to work up enough nerve to ask to see her on a more casual basis, instead of always while he was working.

“Right,” she said, rather morosely. 

She went over to where she put her stuff and picked up the paper bag she’d brought. She then walked back over to stand in front of Gendry.

“I wanted to give you a token of appreciation to show how much you doing this has meant. I mean, I know it’s probably just another job, but it seems so much more to me. The time and craftsmanship you’ve put into it can never be repaid enough, no matter the price. So, I want you to have this,” she rushed out and thrust the paper bag in his hands.

Gendry reached into the bag and his fingers brushed up against thin, narrow leaves. He pulled out the contents.

It was a spider plant.

She’d gotten him a plant. She’d obviously seen the plants he had around the shop and figured out that he liked plants. It was definitely something Laurel never would’ve done. Hells, she’d almost killed his when he’d asked her to look after them for a few days when he had to go out of town.

And this plant looked like a nice one. Medium-sized, with the beginnings of little sprouts starting to form, which, when mature enough, would grow into more plants.

“The lady at the plant nursery said spider plants are pretty hardy and easy to care for, so I thought it was a good choice. I don’t know if you already have one or not, but I thought it might be a nice thank you gift.”

She looked down at her feet for a few moments before the silence made her look up and into his face. 

Gendry looked into her eyes, those large beautiful eyes of hers. He was at a loss for words. To others, it may just be a plant, but to him, it was though he’d shared a part of himself he hadn’t even realized he’d done, and she’d been able to pick up on it and hold it gently to her soul.

No, words would never do.

He carefully set the plant down on the workbench next to him and leaned towards her and smashed his lips to hers in a searing kiss.

It took a few moments for Arya to register what happened, but once she did, she wrapped her arms around his neck and began to return the kiss with enthusiasm.

Oh, how he’d wanted this moment to come. To touch her and to feel her next to him. Her tongue brushed against his lips, beckoning them to open up to her. He did so and he felt her pour all of her soul into him. It was a yearning hunger between them.

He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and he tasted her. He’d seen her bite her lower lip on occasion and he had never wished to be a set of teeth before in his life as he had during those moments.

Arya tugged at the hair by his collar and he wanted to bury himself deep within her. 

They had to break apart in order to catch their breath. They were both heaving with a lack of oxygen as well as desire. Her fists were clenched into the front of his shirt and she had a death grip on him that made him surprised that she hadn’t ripped his shirt off of him at that very moment.

“Sorry, I- don’t know why I did that…” he said, looking embarrassed. His fingers danced in the silken strands of her hair.

He felt electric at her touch. Like he’d been struck by lightning.

Gendry started to pull away, but Arya kept him in her iron grip. 

“No, it’s fine. Really. I take it this means you like the plant?”

Gendry chuckled, “Yeah, I do.”

Arya bit her lip and released her grip on his shirt, running her hands down his front in an attempt to smooth out the wrinkles she’d made from her fists. He noted that her hands seemed to linger on the hardened muscles of his chest.

“So, do you want to go on a date with me?” she asked him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the brass casting technique from a YouTube channel I watch called Random Hands, where he makes quite a few bladed weapons and he makes brass casting for elements of the handles. Who says you can't learn anything from YouTube...
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


	7. Day Six (evening)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole chapter is basically going to be them flirting and foreplay throughout the meal. Leading up to the inevitable denouement. 😏😏

[ ](https://imgur.com/l9NzKmo)

_ Day Six (evening) _

**Arya**

It was the evening of their date. They had both decided on something low-key, so Arya suggested a brick oven pizza place down the block from the shop. For the first time in her life, Arya was torn as to what to wear. 

She didn’t tend to fuss over her outfit choices. She generally just threw something on that she felt comfortable in. Sansa was usually the one who liked to make a fuss when she went out. She’d once told Arya that she had a simple, yet casual style. 

She’d contemplated wearing a dress or a skirt but opted against it. She had nothing against skirts or dresses when the occasion called for it, but she wanted to be more casual. She opted for a pair of skinny jeans with strategically placed rips in the knees, a short-sleeved crop top, a lightweight jacket and a pair of ballet flats. She wore her brown hair loose around her shoulders and applied a light layer of makeup. 

Arya took a deep breath and took one last look in the mirror. She didn’t think she looked too bad. She never would look as pretty as Sansa, but she looked pretty cute in her own way. She grabbed her purse and her keys and headed out the door.

She’d told her roommates she was going out with friends, which was the partial truth. If she’d told them that she was going out on a date, she’d never hear the end of it. She’d maybe tell them about it later if she felt up to it. 

Arya’d been on dates before. This one felt different.  _ He _ felt different. Would it be to cliche to say that maybe Gendry is The One? Her parents had been each other's' One, like Robb and his wife Jeyne, Jon and Ygritte, Sansa and Margaery. 

She knew Aegon hadn’t been her One. She liked him well enough, but there was never that spark, that fire. The sex was decent, but it didn’t make her toes curl. She never felt that fire in her belly like she had when looking at Gendry.

Sure, Gendry is ridiculously attractive. With his muscular physique and his chiseled features and those intense blue eyes. 

He was smart and artistic and had a good heart. She could tell all of this from his interactions with her and the way he carefully crafted the sword and how he took care of his plants. 

And she could see it in his eyes. At first, they were flinty and hard, but she saw them soften and deepen, especially when he looked at her.

A few years ago, Arya would’ve thought someone like him wouldn’t be interested in someone like her, non-traditionally feminine and athletic and rough around the edges. She saw the kinds of girls guys who looked like him went for.

Girls like Sansa.

But, based on the kiss he’d given her, she’d begun to think otherwise. 

The thought sent a thrill all the way down to her toes. She wasn’t one who swooned over handsome boys, but she definitely felt like she was swooning whenever she was in his presence. 

Arya had arrived at the pizza place and hoped she wasn’t too early. She waited by the entrance, biting her lip and fiddling with her necklace. She’d hoped the gift she got for him wasn’t too much. Even though she’d already gotten him a plant, she saw something in a shop window and it caught her eye and she knew it was perfect. She did worry that Gendry would think that she was trying to buy his affections. 

Soon, her attention was drawn to the figure coming up the sidewalk. As they got closer she saw it was Gendry and her stomach did a little flip.

He was dressed in a pair of slender fit black jeans, a pair of black combat boots, a white, snug-fitting v-neck t-shirt, and a black leather motorcycle jacket. 

She practically orgasmed there on the sidewalk. 

Arya subconsciously squeezed her thighs together in an effort to contain herself as she felt her desire bubble up inside of her.

Gods the reactions this man elicited in her.

He saw her and his eyes lit up. She loved seeing that sparkle in his eyes. It made them all that much brighter. They almost twinkled.

“Good evening, m’lady,” he greeted her.

“Stop with that now,” she countered. He smiled at her.

Arya giggled as they walked up to the entrance. Gendry opened the door for her and they walked inside. She could smell a whiff of his soap and aftershave as she passed him. He smelled of leather and pine. It was incredible.

They waited a few minutes before the hostess came and escorted them to their table. Arya didn’t miss the appraising look she’d given Gendry as they walked to their table. She tried to suppress the twinge of jealousy that she felt.

Gendry pulled her chair out for her and then gently pushed it back in once she sat down. She took her jacket off and placed it on the back of her chair. Gendry did the same with his and Arya felt her heart stutter at the flexing of his muscles as he did so.

_ For fuck’s sake, Arya. Chill out. _

“Since you suggested this place, I take it they have good food?” he questioned while looking over the menu.

Arya peered over her own menu and caught the mischievous glimmer in his eyes. She felt herself blush. 

“Yes, they make amazing made to order pizzas with all kinds of toppings. They do an amazing cauliflower crust for people with gluten intolerance.”

Gendry chuckled, “Well, I don’t have a gluten intolerance, but I am a sucker for bar-be-que.”

“Next time, we’ll go to a bar-be-que place,” Arya commented. She froze slightly. She hoped there would be a next time.

“Sounds like a plan,” Gendry replied.

They both ordered pizzas and locally brewed beer. Gendry got the bar-be-que chicken and Arya ordered the veggie deluxe with extra cheese.

“I finished the sword. You’ll need to stop by and pick it up sometime,” Gendry said, taking a sip of his beer. 

Arya’s eyebrows shot up.

“Finished so soon? I bet it looks amazing.”

He smirked, “I’ll let you be the judge of that when you see it.”

“I have faith in you. You’re really good at what you do.”

Gendry’s cheeks reddened. “Thanks for saying so.”

“It’s true! I’ve watched you as you worked. You put a lot of care into what you do. How did you come to make swords and stuff?” she asked him.

He sighed a little and looked down at the table. She hoped she hadn’t embarrassed him.

Gendry cleared his throat.

He looked up at her and began to explain how he came to know Tobho Mott and learn the craft of bladesmithing. 

Arya paid rapt attention. In spite of the hard life he’d led, he still turned out to be a good and decent person. Yeah, she was definitely falling for him. 

Their pizzas came and they dug in. She’d almost forgotten how good the food here was. 

They started to engage in small talk, such as what their favorite colors were, favorite bands, foods, animals…

“Black?! Your favorite color is black? That’s not a color, that’s an absence of color!” she joked at him.

He laughed.

“What’s yours then?” he asked puckishly.

“I never really had one, but I’m becoming pretty fond of the color blue…” she trailed off. She wondered if he’d catch that she was referring specifically to the color of his eyes.

By the way he smiled at her, she knew he had.

Arya paused before asking her next question.

“Did you ever meet your biological father?”

She knew it was a touchy subject for him, based on hints he dropped. She hoped she hadn’t crossed any boundaries.

Gendry took another sip of his beer and looked pensive. His eyebrows knit together as he fiddled with the label on his beer bottle.

“No, I never met him. I only heard about him after he’d died and I was contacted by the executor of his estate telling me he’d died and left me a bunch of money. I told him that I didn’t want anything to do with his money since he never did a thing for me when I was a kid. I found out he was a drunk and a womanizer who slept with numerous women across the country. Hells, he probably fathered more kids with as often as he stuck his dick in different women here and there. Whatever. I survived without him this long, I still can.”

Arya picked at some of the toppings on her pizza. 

“I met him a few times,” she said quietly. Gendry looked at her in bewilderment.

“He and my dad were friends. They’d known each other since they were kids. He’d come around every once in a while. And yes, he was a drunk and a skirt chaser. He always gave me weird looks whenever he’d drop by, and it gave me the creeps. Later on, my dad told me that I look so much like my Aunt Lyanna and that Robert had been in love with her for a long time. I always felt that whenever he’d look at me, he wasn’t seeing me but her,” she told him. 

Gendry gave a small snort. “Small world, eh?”

She smiled softly at him, “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Arya remembered something all of a sudden.

“Oh! I have something for you!”

“You didn’t have to get me anything! I mean, the plant was gift enough,” he protested.

Arya shrugged, “I know, but I saw this and I knew it was perfect for you, so I had to get it.”

She dug into her bag and pulled out a small square of tissue paper. She handed it over to Gendry and gestured for him to open it.

He carefully tore into the paper and pulled out a length of chain with a small anvil pendant attached to it. He looked at it in awe.

“Wow, this is— this is incredible!”

“So, do you like it?”

Gendry smiled at her, flashing those beautiful dimples of his.

“Yes, I love it. Thank you.”

He undid the clasp and put it around his neck. It nestled itself in between his pecs just at the edge of the v-neck of his shirt. 

Like Arya needed any more reason to stare at his chest.

“I have a little something for you too,” he said and reached into the pocket of his jacket hanging from the back of his chair.

Gendry pulled out a small, square box with a narrow ribbon wrapped around it. He handed it to Arya. 

“Oh, how nice! Thank you!” she told him and began to pull the ribbon off.

She opened the box and inside, sitting on a bed of grey tissue paper, was a circle of brass along with a long u-shaped fork with no handle.

“It’s a hairpin,” he said, anticipating her question. “I saw how you like to wear your hair back, so I had some brass parts and made it for you, as a way of thanking you for putting up with me this past week."

Arya looked at him astonished.

“You made this?”

Gendry nodded, “Yeah. I had to look up some designs since I’d never made hair accessories before, so I apologize if it looks misshapen.”

She ran her fingers over the hairpin. It was perfectly shaped, with some hammer marks on the surface. She thought it added to the craftsmanship of it. 

Arya put her hand to her mouth.

“Gendry, it’s beautiful. You did a fantastic job! I love it,” she choked out. 

She felt an overwhelming surge of emotions come over her. Adoration, tenderness, lust.

Love.

She pulled back her hair and twisted it into a half bun and inserted the hairpin. In spite of a few loose tendrils that escaped, it held her hair beautifully.

Gendry had the softest and tenderest smile on his face and Arya wanted nothing more than to kiss him. And other things.

Her breathing picked up and she could feel the swell of heat pooling in her lower belly. She looked at him with hooded eyes.

She wanted him. Badly.

She leaned forward and spoke in hushed tones.

“How far is your place from here?”

The pupils in Gendry’s eyes widened. His blue eyes were almost black with want.

“Not far,” he answered, huskily.

“Good.”

**Gendry**

He felt giddy like a schoolboy as he readied for his date with Arya. He was glad that she was the one to suggest it because he knew he was far too chickenshit to make the first move. In spite of all the dreams and fantasies he’d had about her, acting upon them was another matter entirely. She was from a high-class family and he was just a working-class orphan with no family to speak of.

He’d showered and shaved and put on a pair of clean jeans and a clean shirt. He’d bulked up a little, so it was a bit snug on him. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a big deal. He needed to buy new shirts at some point, but he never bothered to do it.

Gendry threw on his well-worn leather jacket and pocketed the gift he made her, along with his wallet, phone, and keys. The pizza place she picked was within walking distance and it was a nice night, so he could walk there with ease. His boots were broken in, so they were comfortable enough to wear.

He was glad it was someplace casual where he didn’t have to wear a tie. He didn’t think he even owned a tie anyway. His clothing choices tended toward low-key and understated in neutral colors. Laurel had always tried to get him to wear more stylish clothing, but it never really suited him. Why did he need to wear stuff like that anyway? He worked in a forge. He liked being comfortable. In cooler temperatures, he’d throw on a flannel shirt or a henley or a hoodie and be perfectly fine.

Arya didn’t seem to be super fancy either. She looked stylish and still comfortable. Frankly, she was adorable. She had a unique beauty to her that was fitting for her personality. Warm and bubbly. 

How someone as sullen and closed off as he was had managed to be drawn to someone with as much light as she has was a mystery to him.

Maybe it took someone with as much darkness as he did to be able to see just how bright she was.

The closer he got to the restaurant, the more nervous he got, like birds were fluttering inside of his stomach. He hoped his palms weren’t sweaty.

Then, Gendry saw her standing on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. The streetlight was hitting her hair at a certain angle and it made her look angelic. She was dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, a crop top, and a jacket. Her hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders.

Gods, she was beautiful.

“Good evening, m’lady,” he greeted her.

“Stop with that now,” she countered. He smiled at her.

Arya giggled as they walked up to the entrance. Gendry opened the door for her and they walked inside.

The hostess showed them to their table and he pulled her chair out for her. It may seem rather old fashioned, but he wanted to put his best foot forward. 

He watched as she removed her jacket and his eyes zeroed in on the flex of her taut stomach muscles as she shifted in her chair to put it on the back.

Gendry felt his cock twitch at the sight.

“Since you suggested this place, I take it they have good food?” he questioned while looking over the menu.

“Yes, they make amazing made to order pizzas with all kinds of toppings. They do an amazing cauliflower crust for people with gluten intolerance,” she said.

Gendry chuckled, “Well, I don’t have gluten intolerance, but I am a sucker for bar-be-que.”

“Next time, we’ll go to a bar-be-que place,” Arya commented. 

He wasn’t quite sure, but he thought he detected a bit of hope in her voice.

“Sounds like a plan,” Gendry replied.

They placed their orders and he rested his elbows on the table. He didn’t miss the look Arya cast on his biceps as they bulged under the sleeves of his t-shirt.

“I finished the sword. You’ll need to stop by and pick it up sometime,” Gendry said, taking a sip of his beer. 

Arya’s eyebrows shot up.

“Finished so soon? I bet it looks amazing.”

He smirked, “I’ll let you be the judge of that when you see it.”

“I have faith in you. You’re really good at what you do.”

Gendry felt his cheeks heat up. “Thanks for saying so.”

“It’s true! I’ve watched you as you worked. You put a lot of care into what you do. How did you come to make swords and stuff?” she asked him.

His gaze drifted down to the table. How much of his past should he tell her?

He cleared his throat.

“My mom died when I was eight. She had cancer and we couldn’t afford top of the line treatments, so she just kept getting sicker and sicker. It was just the two of us, and she worked two jobs to keep us afloat. When she got sick, she couldn’t work anymore so we had to go on assistance. I got picked on a lot because I had a lot of holes in my clothes and was kinda skinny. I got into a lot of fights. It only got worse when my mom died. 

I was shuttled between foster homes, mostly due to my anger issues. I hated it, so I ran away one day. It was getting late and I saw a building and broke into it for a place to sleep and maybe some food. Turns out it was the shop and Tobho found me and felt bad, so he let me stay there. He said as long as I stayed in school, he’d show me how to make knives and stuff. I really liked it and I’ve been doing it ever since.”

Arya was riveted. When he told Laurel about his past, she seemed bored more than anything.

The food came and they tucked in. She was right, they did have good pizza. 

They engaged in small talk for a bit. Asking one another simple questions about the things they liked. She poked fun at him for liking the color black, and he smirked when she revealed she was starting to like the color blue, looking straight into his eyes as she did so.

Then, she dropped the big question on him. One he could see coming.

“Did you ever meet your biological father?”

Gendry took another sip of his beer and began to peel the label off of the bottle.

He eventually told her of his history with his birth father. He was afraid of the feelings the topic would dredge up again, but he felt a sense of calm talking to her. Like her very presence soothed him. 

Once he finished, he noticed she was strangely quiet.

Arya picked at some of the toppings on her pizza. 

“I met him a few times,” she said quietly. Gendry looked at her in bewilderment.

She went on to explain her family’s history with his birth father, which seemed like a pretty strange coincidence. That the woman he was currently on a date with, and developing strong feelings for, had such a connection to the man who had fathered him. 

Gendry gave a small snort. “Small world, eh?”

She smiled softly at him, “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Arya looked as if she had remembered something all of a sudden.

“Oh! I have something for you!”

“You didn’t have to get me anything! I mean, the plant was gift enough,” he protested.

Arya shrugged, “I know, but I saw this and I knew it was perfect for you, so I had to get it.”

She dug into her bag and pulled out a small square of tissue paper. She handed it over to Gendry and gestured for him to open it.

He carefully tore into the paper and pulled out a length of chain with a small anvil pendant attached to it. He looked at it in awe.

“Wow, this is— this is incredible!”

“So, do you like it?”

Gendry smiled at her, flashing those beautiful dimples of his.

“Yes, I love it. Thank you.”

He undid the clasp and put it around his neck. It hung to the middle of his chest, just below the collar of his shirt.

Arya looked at his chest hungrily.

“I have a little something for you too,” he said and reached into the pocket of his jacket hanging from the back of his chair.

Gendry pulled out a small, square box with a narrow ribbon wrapped around it. He handed it to Arya. 

“Oh, how nice! Thank you!” she told him and began to pull the ribbon off.

She opened the box and inside, sitting on a bed of grey tissue paper, was a circle of brass along with a long u-shaped fork with no handle.

“It’s a hairpin,” he said, anticipating her question. “I saw how you like to wear your hair back, so I had some brass parts and made it for you, as a way of thanking you for putting up with me this past week.”

Arya looked at him astonished.

“You made this?”

Gendry nodded, “Yeah. I had to look up some designs since I’d never made hair accessories before, so I apologize if it looks misshapen.”

He was pretty proud of how the hairpin had turned out. The design was pretty simple, and he had enough brass to be able to make it. Since brass was a pretty soft metal, he could shape it easily and then anneal it to harden it. Instead of making it smooth, he opted for the hammered surface to add a little bit of texture to it

Arya placed her hand to her mouth, overcome with emotion.

“Gendry, it’s beautiful. You did a fantastic job! I love it,” she choked out.

He smiled at her. 

She pulled back her hair and twisted it into a half bun and inserted the hairpin. In spite of a few loose tendrils that escaped, it held her hair beautifully.

Gendry felt the urge to tuck those tendrils behind her ear and kiss her passionately.

Truth be told, he wanted to do much more than that. Like, hold onto her hair as she sucked his cock into bliss.

She leaned forward and spoke in hushed tones.

“How far is your place from here?”

He looked deep into her eyes. They were wide and her grey pupils almost disappeared into blackness.

“Not far,” he answered, huskily.

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we pretty much all know what's coming next. There will be a rating change, just to let everyone know.


	8. Still Day Six (later that evening)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Face it, we all know what's happening...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are! The end! And is it ever an ending.
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with me and my indulgences. I hope this finale will meet your expectations, if not exceed them.
> 
> You may need to have some ice water standing by, also a change of undies afterward.
> 
> Special thanks to Badge, who DM'd me throughout the whole process of writing this chapter, giving me encouragement, tips, and smutty gifs. Bless you, Badge.
> 
> Onto the smut!!

[ ](https://imgur.com/34pFQmD)

_ Still Day Six (later that evening) _

Gendry fumbled with the keys to his front door, cursing himself for his clumsiness. Here was an attractive woman, eager for him, and he couldn’t get his key to unlock the door.

He hoped this wasn’t a sign of things to come.

Arya stood next to him, radiating sexuality. They’d barely paid for their meal when they rushed out the door, the entire walk over to his loft was them with their hands and their mouths all over each other. 

Finally, he was able to unlock his door and they scrambled inside. Gendry dropped his keys… somewhere and Arya flung her purse off and it landed somewhere near the door.

Arya kicked her feet and flung off her shoes. They both crashed into one another and kissed feverishly. She barely had time to register the retro minimalism of his loft apartment. 

She was able to catch more plants through the corner of her eyes, and there were large picture windows on the far wall, letting in the light from the moon. Some of them were tilted open, allowing the breeze to waft in.

They shuffled along the floor, in a tangle of limbs and tongues. Arya’s hands skimmed across Gendry’s broad chest and she crept them up to his shoulders, working his jacket off with a soft thump to the wooden floors. Gendry soon stripped her of her jacket as well. 

Arya moaned into his mouth, her nerves on fire. Gendry picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She had better leverage that way and could deepen her kiss. She didn’t know where her mouth ended and his began.

Gendry took long strides across to his bed. He had a few curtains up as a way of making some privacy within the open space of his loft. 

He liked his loft. It was roomy and spacious, and it suited his needs just fine. No muss, no fuss. He had a few pieces of furniture he’d been able to find at thrift stores and garage sales. It was a bit of a mish-mash, but it was comfortable and he liked it. 

Gendry set Arya down and she gazed up into his eyes. They were filled with longing and desire. His hair was mussed from her running her hands through it and it looked so incredibly hot. 

While they were momentarily separated, Gendry took the opportunity to reach behind his head and shuck off his t-shirt and throw it on the floor. Arya lustfully ran her eyes over his torso. She’d never seen him completely shirtless before. To think, he was hiding a body like that under those clothes. 

His skin was pale and illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the windows. He looked as though he were carved from marble. A firm, broad chest, a swell of muscles across his pecs. A slim, narrow waist, with the tight and firm abs flexing in and out with each heaving breath. The v line of muscles leading down into his waistband, with the dark thatch of coarse hair trailing from below his navel and down into parts unknown. His arms were strong and thick, shaped by years of hammering metal and pumping bellows. Hands were large and sinewy with prominent veins and long, rough fingers. Those hands felt sinful as they brushed against her skin.

Arya made quick work of her own top, flinging it off with less grace than she would’ve wanted. Gendry looked at her in a daze. Dear Gods was she amazing. Trim and toned, her tight stomach moving in and out with each gasping breath. Her arms slim and muscular, skin soft and glowing under the light of the moon. And her breasts. She was wearing a small cotton bralette and he could see the tops of her pert and perfect breasts over the tops. Her long and slender neck pulsing with the quickness of her rapid heartbeats. 

He wrapped his strong arms around her trim waist and crashed his lips against hers once more. He lifted her up and carried her to the bed and laid her down upon it, her dark hair fanned out behind her head. He unzipped his boots, made quick work of his socks and kneeled down over her, burning her swollen lips and her beautiful face into his memory.

Arya placed her hands upon his muscular shoulders and skimmed them over the smooth skin there. Gendry leaned down and began sucking and licking his way down her throat. Arya felt her body tense up in anticipation. Her skin prickling at the feel of his lips on her. She closed her eyes and felt a small moan escape her lips. 

Gendry smirked against her skin.

“I haven’t even started yet, and this is the reaction I get?” he chuckled.

Arya couldn’t even think of a smartass comeback, her brain was crackling with sensations. Instead, she dug her fingers into the muscles of his shoulders, hoping he’d get the hint and continue with what he was doing.

He did.

“As m’lady commands…”

He kissed his way over her collarbone and the hollow of her throat, nipping at the jutting skin and worked his way down between her breasts. He took his hands and began to knead at the mounds of flesh, flicking his thumbs over her nipples still covered by her bra. She trembled at the touch. 

Gendry pulled down the straps of her thin cotton bralette until her breasts were freed from the fabric, her dusky nipples taut and erect at the feel of the air on her skin and the feel of his touch.

His mouth latched onto one breast, suckling it and teasing at the nipple with his teeth. Arya gasped and moaned. She threw her head back on the bed and gripped his shoulders even harder. He took his hand and palmed her other breast, kneading it gently and rolling her nipple in between his rough fingers. He licked and lapped at it with a hunger never known to him before. The reactions he was getting from her made his cock hard and it strained against the zipper of his jeans.

Gendry took his tongue and then tickled at the crease on the underside of her breasts with the tip, causing her to quiver. He then proceeded to dip it into the hollow of her navel, making her squirm.

Dear Gods why was he tormenting her like this! It was delicious torture. Her moans got deeper and more guttural as he worked his tongue over her burning skin.

He popped his head up and quirked an eyebrow at her. She lamented the loss of contact. He had a questioning expression on his beautiful features. It took Arya a moment to register what he was waiting for.

She nodded vigorously her consent for him to continue. Gendry got the message and started unbuttoning her jeans. Arya lifted her hips and he slid her jeans free of her legs and dropped them unceremoniously on the floor. She suddenly wished she’d worn nicer undies instead of her everyday cotton set.

“I wish I had sexier undies,” she huffed out.

Gendry smiled and laughed in low tones.

“Frankly, I don’t care about the kind of underwear you’re wearing. They look fine on you or even better off,” he told her salaciously.

To prove his point, he ran his hands up her bare thighs and lingered at the waistband of her panties. Arya could feel her cunt clench at his proximity. 

He hooked his fingers under the hem and slowly inched them down her legs until he’d worked them completely off. Arya had to fight the urge to squeeze her knees together in embarrassment. Gendry gently pried her knees apart and looked down at her.

She looked like a goddess. 

Arya’s thighs were quaking in anticipation. He shifted his weight and moved in between her legs and ran his fingers up and down the outer lips of her labia where it met her inner thigh. She gasped and twitched with each stroke up and down her sensitive skin. 

She looked down at where he was situated and he saw his darkened eyes peering back at her, boring into her soul. She had no idea what was coming next, but she knew she’d be in heaven.

Gendry’s breath huffed over her mound and she gasped. She gripped onto the sheets and felt herself vibrate with the force of her arousal. She then felt something warm and wet tickle at the skin where Gendry’s fingers had been, and she registered that it was his tongue. He was slowly running his tongue up and down the crease between her thigh and her outer lips. A shuddering moan broke free from her throat. 

He took his hands and gripped her thighs and spread them further apart, leaving her open to him. She was wet and wanting. He could see her moisture glistening at her entrance. He moved over from her outer skin and dipped his tongue into her folds, nearly causing her to buck up off of the bed. Her breath hitched. 

Good. That’s what he wanted to see. 

He stuck his tongue deeper into her, landing on her clit. He took the tip of it and circled her bundle of nerves, slowly and deliberately. He still looked up at her and reveled in the sight of her slowly coming apart because of him. 

Arya bit her lip, trying not to cry out.

“No, I want to hear you, my love. I want everyone to hear you as I make you come,” he husked out to her. 

Gendry returned to her sopping cunt, alternating between licking and sucking at her clit. Arya could feel herself arch her back as the pressure within her began to build and build, like a twisting rope. She moved her hands to grip his hair, and then she felt him stick a finger inside and curl and twist it. 

She cried out with each movement. He said he wanted to hear her, well she’d make sure he heard her. 

He stuck another finger in and started to work them in and out a little faster. Arya found herself rolling her hips against him, causing the pressure to build up even more. Soon, she was going to snap.

When her orgasm hit her, it was if time stood still. Wave after wave of fiery pleasure washed over her and she stiffened as everything dissolved into white. Her ears were filled with static as her brain overloaded on endorphins. 

Gendry lifted his head from between her legs, her come dripping from his mouth and chin. He licked his lips, enjoying the salty-sweet taste of her. He watched as she shattered beneath him, a smile on his face. Gods did she look heavenly.

He crawled up her body and gazed down at her face when she finished coming down from her high. She was flushed and breathless and a little dazed, but he thought she looked utterly gorgeous.

“Oh my Gods, that— was indescribable,” she gasped out. He grinned. Gods did he look sexy when he did that. His hair was tousled and disheveled where she had gripped it in the throes of passion. Like he’d been out on a windswept island. 

Gendry leaned down and captured her lips in another searing kiss, the taste of her lingering on his mouth. They sucked and swirled their tongues together in a frenzy. Arya clung to him, like she wanted to envelop him inside of her, their skin rubbing together, her sensitive nipples throbbing as they scraped against his heaving chest. 

She broke away from him and looked him in the eyes with a renewed hunger.

“I need you inside of me,” she whispered.

He smirked wickedly once again and leaned over to his nightstand. He pulled out a box and fished out a length of foil-wrapped condoms. He ripped one free and shoved the box aside.

“First thing is first, you need to get rid of these,” Arya commented, tugging on the belt loops of his jeans. 

“As m’lady commands,” he growled in her ear. His voice sent shivers down her spine.

He clambered off the bed and began to undo the fly of his jeans. Arya could see the straining bulge of his crotch. She began to tingle. 

Gendry shoved his jeans down his legs. Arya noted the firm muscles of his thighs. He definitely didn’t skip out on leg day.

Next, he slowly slid his boxer briefs down. He was absolutely making a show of it and Arya loved every minute of it. 

When he finally sprung free, Arya was gobsmacked. Yes, he was definitely bigger than Aegon. Holy fuck was he ever. She reached over and flicked at his erection. It bounced very nicely. 

“Holy fuck,” she exclaimed. She could’ve sworn she saw Gendry blush at her proclamation.

He tore open the condom and rolled it onto his length. She bit her lip in anticipation. Good Gods, how was he ever going to fit that inside of her?

Gendry saw Arya stare hungrily at his cock. He had earned the nickname of The Bull in high school from some of the guys he’d come across in the locker room. He never made a big deal about it, but he always made sure to keep his eyes forward whenever he had to shower or change his clothes because he didn’t want any mixed signals. 

He’d still get those sort of looks even now when he was at the gym.

He climbed back onto the bed, hovering over Arya. Her eyes were wide and she licked her lips wantonly. She lay all the way back on the bed and opened her thighs to make room for him in between them. 

“We’ll take it slow because if we go too fast, I’m not going to last very long,” he told her. She nodded in agreement. She just wanted him, whether it be fast or slow. She needed him to fill her up.

Gendry slid his hips into position and placed his tip at her entrance. He could tell she was still slick for him, so it would make it a bit easier for him.

She gasped at the contact, and he carefully pushed himself forward as she adjusted around him. She was so tight. 

“Good Gods, Arya. You’re so tight…” he grunted out.

“Sorry,” she hissed out.

“No, no that’s good. It feels good,” he assured her.

He looked down and could see the necklace she’d given him nestled in between her breasts. He suppressed a smirk at the sight. He loved it. 

Gendry braced himself with his forearms as he continued to press inside. Arya had never had a dick this big inside of her, so it was a definite adjustment, but she liked the way he felt. She liked the feeling of her stretching around him. 

Soon, he was fully sheathed inside of her. He loved the feeling of being surrounded by her wet heat and the way she moved slightly to adjust to him. It sent fire down his spine. He waited a beat until she was ready, then he began to slowly thrust up into her, rocking slowly in an elliptical motion. 

Gendry locked his lips to her throat and began to suck at the skin on her neck as he set a pace, pistoning back and forth, slowly, deliberately, languidly. 

Arya ran her hands down his back as he pumped into her, settling them on his tight, firm buttocks as they flexed and clenched. 

He positioned her legs so that they were wrapped around his waist. It changed the angle slightly so he was able to go in deeper and hit just right inside of her. She moaned in satisfaction. 

As he thrust, he would drag his cock against her clit so that she’d be sure to feel as much pleasure as she could. It was hardly unpleasurable for him as well, as he grunted with each deep thrust. He braced his knees against the mattress for more leverage and he could feel himself building up to a climax.

Gendry’s abdominal muscles undulated against Arya’s, the sounds of their skin slapping against each other filling the room along with their heavy breathing. 

She started keening as her build-up increased. He could feel her clenching around him, her walls fluttering as she too began to climax.

They crashed together, crying out in unison, as they stilled while they let their orgasms cascade like shockwaves through them, their nerves on fire. 

They lay panting in one another’s arms, sweat-slicked and sated. Gendry looked down at Arya and her heaving breasts, a trickle of sweat trickling down in between them. He lapped a line from the top of her navel, in between the valley of her tits and up to the hollow of her throat. She sucked in a breath.

He rolled off and removed the condom and disposed of it. Arya lay there, much as she had when he was fucking her, all languid and dazed. She reached out for him and he took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. 

Gendry propped his head upon his elbow and looked at her lovingly. She turned her gaze to him and smiled softly.

He still held onto her hand and gently ran his thumb over the inside of her wrist.

“So, is there going to be a second date?” he asked mischievously.

Arya’s breathing steadied as she answered.

“Oh, hells yeah there is.”

He chuckled at her and leaned forward to plant another kiss on her lips. 

She sighed contentedly. 

“I dunno about you, but that was, bar none, the best sex I have ever had. Period.”

He blushed. 

“You weren’t too shabby yourself, m’lady…”

As much as she hated to admit it, she was starting to grow fond of that nickname he had for her. Especially when he said it with such tenderness. And lust.

Arya moved to rise from the bed. She looked over her shoulder at him.

“Where is your bathroom? I have to take care of a few things…”

He pointed to where his bathroom was and she got up and made her way over. He drank in the way her perky backside bounced as she walked across the floor. 

Gendry leaned back and closed his eyes and sighed blissfully. She was right. It was the best sex he’d ever had. Sex with Laurel seemed more like an obligation rather than pure pleasure. Sure, his body reacted whenever they’d fuck, but with Arya, it felt like he was launched into space and had yet to return to his body.

He heard a flush and saw Arya poke her head out of the bathroom door.

“Don’t relax just yet, lover. It’s my turn next,” she teased.

Gendry’s eyebrows shot up. He suddenly felt another surge of blood rush to his softening cock and he could feel it start to spring back to life.

She kneeled on the bed and began to crawl towards him on her hands and knees. His eyes were drawn to her breasts hanging down and swaying back and forth with her movements.

She reached him and placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing him down and back. 

“On your back, mister,” she commanded. He complied eagerly. He’d give this woman the world if she asked for it.

Arya reached for the box of condoms and tore off another one from the strip, using her teeth to open the packet. Gendry stared at her wide-eyed. 

She straddled his thighs and ran her hands up and down his firm abs, slender fingers trickling across his skin. Her hands splayed over the muscles of his chest, ghosting over his nipples. He sucked in a breath. She smiled lustfully at his reaction and ran her hands over his chest again, fingers running over his pebbled nipples, causing him to jerk slightly.

She leans down and licks a line of heat down his chest. She’d been waiting for ages to do so, and she’s excited to finally get her chance. She loves the smoothness of his skin. She uses her tongue to tickle the nubs of his nipples, which causes him to shiver. 

Gendry places his hands on her hips, rubbing circles into her hip bones with his thumbs. He starts to trace along the apex of her thighs, where they join her torso, earning a low hum from her. 

Arya fondles the dips and valleys of his abdominal muscles and she pauses at his navel. A flirty grin blooms across her face and she skirts her hands below his belly button, settling into the dark, thick, coarse hair that sprouts there. 

_ I guess his hair really is that black. _

She cards her fingers through it and she feels the grip on her hips tighten slightly. 

Arya places her hands even lower and gently takes hold of his length, feeling the firm tissue under her hands and the velvety softness of his skin. Gendry sucks in air between his teeth as the feel of her fondling his dick, her grip firm but gentle. 

With the condom in its wrapper still dangling from her teeth, she begins to stroke him to fullness between her warm hands. 

“Aryaaaaaa…” he hisses out.

Once he’s fully erect, she releases him and takes the condom out of the packet. She slowly rolls it down his member, pinching the end slightly. 

She scoots herself up slightly and begins to rub her slick cunt against the underside of his cock, slowly, deliberately, languidly.

Gendry’s head jolted back against the bed and his eyes rolled back in his head and he gasped. Arya bites her lip with arousal. Gods did he look so fucking hot like that. 

His breaths came out in shorter and shorter bursts, his grip on her thighs firm. She has a feeling there will be bruises the next morning.

She rose up on her knees and placed his cock at her entrance. She slowly began to sink down, readjusting to his size. He just filled her up so good as she delighted in the pleasant stretch of herself around him.

Once she was fully seated, she started moving up and down his cock, slow and steady, to draw out the pleasure. Gendry moved his hands up to her breasts and began kneading them and grazing his thumbs across her nipples causing them to pucker and stiffen under his touch.

He drew his knees up which caused him to jackhammer into her at a slightly different angle, causing a whole new sensation to course throughout her body. His hips snapped up into hers as she slammed down into him, their flesh smacking together in heated stickiness. Her ass slapping against the top of his thighs. 

Arya braced her hands against his chest, feeling the rippling of his hard muscles as they moved in rhythm to their thrusts. 

Gendry moved his hands from her breasts onto her hips, guiding them as they pounded into one another, lost in a haze of ecstasy.

Arya could feel the coil tightening within her core, winding more and more as she began to cry out.

Gendry’s grunts get more and more intense the longer they continue. He knows he’ll be over the edge soon. He reaches down to where they’re joined and begins to rub her clit in a circular motion. Arya’s cries and moans get more intense the faster he goes.

“Let go for me, love,” he grits out. 

She releases and her body shudders around him. He can feel her walls pulsing around his cock, and it causes his balls to tighten and him to spill his seed.

Arya lifts herself off of him and flops over to the side, well and truly spent. They both lie back, heaving breaths and dreamy sighs.

Gendry slowly peels the condom off, ties it up and tosses it in the direction of the trash. He’s not sure if he made it in, but at this point, he doesn’t care.

“So, do you think the neighbors heard?” she asks him, breathlessly.

“Fuck them if they did. I don’t care,” he answered, his voice raspy.

Arya chuckles. 

“This has to be the most fun workout I’ve ever done, I don’t know about you.”

Gendry nodded, “Yeah, I’m beat. My abs are pretty sore, and so are my thighs. And I think you clawed my back.”

Arya rolled onto her side and faced him, his black hair stuck to his forehead. 

“I may have. Sorry about that.”

He reached over and cupped her cheek. 

“I don’t care. You marked me as yours. And I’ll wear them like a badge of honor,” he told her tenderly.

She smiled and leaned into his touch. Her skin felt extra sensitive after their lovemaking like her nerves were on fire. Her cunt was still throbbing from the pounding it took. It was magnificent.

“I think you marked me as well. I know I’ll have bruises on my hips from you digging your fingers into my skin as well as love bites on my boobs. You animal…” she teased. 

He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight. He leaned forward and kissed her sweetly on the lips. He tugged on some of her hair as he looked at her, adoration in his expression.

Arya scooted closer to him and nestled into his side. She sighed contentedly. He ran his fingers over her back, her skin tingling at his touch. She rubbed slow circles into his chest, skimming over his nipple. He flinched slightly and she giggled. She settled her head into the crook of his neck. They both lay bare upon the bed, not caring to cover themselves and basking in their nakedness. 

Soon, they drifted off to sleep.

_ Epilogue _

Arya could feel the warmth covering her, which pulled her from a deep sleep. She could hear birds twittering outside and feel a spring breeze skate across her bare skin. She peeked open one eye and could see her surroundings were not what she was accustomed to.

This was definitely not her room. 

She could feel the aching tenderness between her legs and everything came back to her suddenly. 

Gendry.

She was at Gendry’s place. 

She slowly lifted up her head and cast a glance to her left. 

Gendry’s naked form asleep next to her. 

The sun had risen and was bathing him in golden rays, bouncing off of the dips and valleys of his muscles as he lay there sleeping. 

He was on his back, his head tilted to the side and his left arm flung over his head, resting on his pillow. His right arm was laying across his abdomen.

Arya smiled softly at him.

He looked so peaceful. He probably hadn’t had many moments of peace in a difficult life, but at this very moment, he looked boyish. Almost innocent.

Although based on their activities the night before, there was no innocence to be had. 

His sharp features seemed softer somehow. Like he’d had a significant weight lifted from his broad shoulders.

Arya watched the way his long, black eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. His black hair was disheveled and hung across his eyes. 

She flicked her gaze down his body, watching as his chest moved up and down as he breathed. Her eyes rested on his cock, laying flaccid on his thigh. She remembered how it had felt within her and how she’d be sure to taste it next time.

One leg was sticking straight out and the other was hanging off of the bed, haphazardly. 

He was utterly beautiful. 

She was tempted to move her hands to brush his hair out of his eyes, but she didn’t want to disturb his sleep. 

Instead, she slid closer to his side and rested a cheek on his sculpted shoulder. He shifted slightly and moved his right hand and rested it on her thigh. 

Arya felt a true bliss, like nothing she’d ever experienced before. 

She wanted to spend all of her days, just like this, with him by her side, and she by his. Who trusted her with his shattered heart, as she worked to repair the pieces, bit by bit.

Sleep overtook her once again and she drifted off once more, content next to the man she loved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe that was possibly some of the best smut I've written so far. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did writing it.
> 
> Special acknowledgments go to:
> 
> Adian Turner's magnificent ass. That gif was truly a gift.
> 
> Lastly, to Daken. You beast. Thanks to me gazing at your hunky self, and in particular your luscious happy trail, you kept me motivated throughout. 
> 
> Now let me lick you like a lollypop...

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watching "Forged In Fire" recently, so it's given me a lot of inspiration for this fic and it's been pretty informative for knowledge of general bladesmithing and blacksmithing in general. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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